Calling the Wind
by VR Trakowski
Summary: Rey, Finn, and Chewbacca deal with the aftermath. So does Ben.
1. The Storm Inside Me

**Here we go again! Is it just me, or does just about every early _October Project_ song apply to this 'ship?**

* * *

The sky was falling.

Rey staggered out from under the monolith that crouched over Exegol's plain, wondering vaguely why it still hovered in air instead of crushing her flat - only to find there were plenty of crushing opportunities left. The ground shook with impacts as Star Destroyers succumbed to gravity all around, and the noise was incomprehensible.

Fog seemed to envelop her brain; _shock_, some small part of it diagnosed coolly. Somehow she managed to cross the rocky ground to Luke's battered X-wing, dodging the occasional bit of flaming debris curving down from overhead. Every so often her restless hand drifted to check the hilt of one or the other lightsaber hooked to her belt.

The other was clenched tightly around the small bits of metal she'd found in the ruin of Ben's empty clothes.

_Ben - _

His name swelled in her throat, locked tight lest the anguish escape and Rey lose all that remained of her strength. Death was raining down. She had to _concentrate._

The X-wing's cockpit was still damp and smelled like fish, an oddly calming contrast to the hell outside. Luke's old helmet didn't fit, but it was a familiar weight, all those times she'd played with the one she'd scavenged, imagining lifting away from the desert, escaping gravity -

Her hand was still fisted. Rey forced it open and dropped the contents inside her shirt for lack of a safer place, then swallowed, engaged the engines, and left Exegol behind.

Somehow the antique fighter's life support system still worked, and it supplied her with untainted oxygen and a few of the revolting energy chews that were specially made to never expire. The chatter on the comm was exultant, but without an astromech droid she couldn't turn it off, so Rey let it flow past without listening and simply concentrated on piloting. The silence that fell when she made the jump to lightspeed was a blessing.

In the glazy drone of hyperspace she tried to center herself. Her body ached weirdly and the scrape on her forehead still oozed blood, a sticky patch under the helmet. Her heart kept speeding up and slowing down, as if it hadn't quite got back into the habit of beating. But that was just her outside; it didn't really matter.

_Ben_

The wail burst out of her without warning. Rey screamed, fists smashing into the console. _**Ben!**_

It was disbelief; it was fury; it was wild tearing anguish. It felt as though her soul, her very _self_, had been ripped right down the center and was bleeding. As if a part of her had been carved away with a lightsaber, burnt, damaged beyond repair.

She was grateful, then, that there was no droid riding behind her. Rey let the pain pour through her, hoarsening her voice, bruising her hands; the old craft absorbed it all.

When it passed, Rey was calm, if only the calm of exhaustion. She sat back in the seat and tried to come to terms with the deafening silence, the scorching pain where that once-unwelcome presence had been.

She wanted to go back and...and…

_And what? _

Even the Force didn't allow for time travel.

Rey wasn't even entirely sure what had happened. She remembered Pal- _the Emperor_ \- dragging life out of her and Ben. Then Ben was gone and the Jedi were chanting in her head, giving her the strength she needed to defy him.

The Emperor disintegrating as she - as _they _\- turned his power back on him.

A time, not of nothingness, but of utter peace. She would have taken it for unconsciousness and hallucination, except that at the end of it she had felt her own heart begin to beat again, which had been _deeply_ strange.

What had happened to Ben after the Emperor had attacked them, Rey didn't know.

_I never will._

But she did know that he had given her back the life she'd given him, and that hurt too.

With an effort, she turned her thoughts outward. _Poe's alive, I got that much._ But as for Finn, Rose, so many others - she didn't know.

_From what I saw - it was bad._ So many ships gone in blooms of light overhead, each one lives snuffed out. Rey hadn't been sure the Resistance would get her message, and she certainly hadn't expected the sheer volume she'd seen when the Emperor had started to pull them from the sky.

But the only way to know was to go on.

Rey hiccuped, swiped at her face below the goggles, and unwrapped an energy chew. Survival was an old, old lesson.

_You just go on. _

* * *

At first, it was easy.

The Resistance's sorrow-laced euphoria of victory was enough to carry Rey through the next few hours of combined celebration and wake; and when they all fell into whatever beds they could find, full of alcohol and dizzy with exhaustion, no one was expected to get up early.

Rey slept, and slept. At one point, she was dimly aware of being moved, turned onto her back; someone was dabbing at her face with a damp cloth. But oblivion pulled her back down, and Rey was glad to go.

Asleep, she could not feel the absence gaping in her soul.

When she did wake, it was easily, all at once. For a long time she stayed still, afraid to move, but all she could hear was the occasional beep of a droid at rest and Poe's funny whistly snore, and sometimes busy sounds much further away.

_You can't stay here forever._

Rey forced her eyes open. The hydration line into her arm, and the other medical equipment around the bed, told her why she didn't feel worse. The surroundings looked like Resistance-base living quarters, though she didn't recognize the room.

Just a few feet away was a battered couch that looked as if it had been salvaged from a trash dump. Finn was sprawled on it, arms along the back, head tipped back. Poe was stretched out next to him, head resting on Finn's thigh. Both of them were clearly asleep; a game of Star-tarot One-up lay abandoned on the low table next to the couch.

She wept then, as silently as she could, muffling her sobs with a palm pressed to her mouth. Because they were _there,_ they were alive and well, she hadn't lost them too.

When the ache in her chest finally eased, Rey rolled over enough to blot her eyes on the pillow. Sleep tugged at her; it would be easy to slip back down into unconsciousness.

_No. I must get up sometime._ Her life was a gift back to her; it wasn't to be wasted.

They'd all had a crash course in basic medical care after Crait. Rey removed the devices that had kept her stable, glad that someone had enveloped her in one of Finn's oversized shirts.

_I don't know where my gear went but I bet it's not salvageable. _But someone, and she was pretty sure who, had carefully placed both lightsabers on the little table next to the bed. Next to them sat a little set of brassy dice, connected by a chain.

The sight of the latter made her throat tighten, and Rey picked them up with trembling fingers. She'd seen them before, of course; they'd hung in the _Falcon's_ cockpit where Han had left them. A good-luck charm of sorts. Which meant that there was no way they could have ended up in Ben's pocket on Exegol.

And yet, they had. She'd found them by accident, patting frantically at his empty clothes as if she could bring him back by sheer dumb insistence. She had gathered them up in desperation, some last fragment of _him_ \- it was stupid but -

She had no pockets to hide them in, but it was easy enough to gather up her tangled hair and twist it, secreting the dice within and pinning it with a stylus she found nearby.

_It will do for now. _

Rey swung her legs off the bed and looked more closely at her surroundings. BB-8 was in the corner, in battery-charging mode, which explained why he hadn't woken everyone with a volley of whistles.

She was just contemplating moving when a prickle of awareness made her lift her head. No footsteps sounded in the corridor, but Rey could sense who was coming.

The sight of the tall form that appeared in the doorway made the pain inside her swell. Chewbacca was carrying D-O, and he put the little droid down with the faintest caution to be silent before holding out his arms.

Rey stumbled into them, eyes blurring again. He was a wall of warmth and safety, wrapping her up tightly as she cried into his fur, crooning high in his throat in a song of comfort and mourning. She had no idea how he knew Ben was dead, but there was no doubt that he did.

And Ben had been, once upon a time, family.

Chewie rocked her for a long while afterwards. Rey inhaled the spicy-sweet smell of him and wondered wearily if she was doomed to keep losing all the people she cared about, if the two sleepers across from her, the cheerful droids, the patient mentor who let her get his chest all wet were to be snatched away like Ben. Or Luke, or Leia, or her parents.

_Be fair. They have lost people too._ Poor Chewie had lost all his human family, in fact, one by one by one. And yet somehow he managed to keep going.

"Uh-oh," D-O said, very softly, and Rey glanced over to see all BB-8's indicator lights coming up.

Chewie growled a warning, but it was too late; BB-8's scream of delight made Finn spasm up straight, blinking. Poe jerked and half-fell off the couch. "What? What is it?!"

BB-8 zipped over to bump into Rey's legs repeatedly, whistling wildly. D-O dashed in circles like a demented spinbug. Rey slid from Chewie's lap to fall into her friends' embrace. And if there were yet more tears, they weren't hers, and there was plenty of laughter to brighten them.

Down in the center of her, Ben's absence burned unhealing, but Rey focused on those around her. The pain would be there later too.

It would always be there.

* * *

"So what exactly happened?" Poe asked, because he had no tact. "You know you have to tell us."

Rey sighed. The stars were thick here, over the Resistance base; the four of them lay on their backs on top of the _Falcon,_ where no one could see anyone's face and it was easier to talk.

Rey was clean and fed - Chewie and Finn and Poe had all stood around watching her pointedly until she'd finished the tray Finn had brought in - and now, Rey thought wearily, it was time for the debriefing.

The bottle Poe was passing around helped. Rey took a small swallow and let it burn down her throat before handing it along. "Where should I start?"

"Kef Bir," Finn said promptly. "Why the _hell_ did you take off like that?"

"I...I went back to Ahch-To. I was going to stay." Rey stared up until her eyes unfocused. "It...I sensed Leia's death, and what Kylo Ren told me - it was all too much."

She went on before they could ask. "Master Skywalker...he came to me. Told me what I had to do. I had Ren's wayfinder."

The bottle was pressed into her hand again, and she took another sip to steady her voice. "I found P- the Emperor. He...he wanted me to turn."

How could she explain that horrific offer, without telling them who and what she was? Without risking them pulling back -

Finn's hand fumbled down her arm to wrap her fingers in his. The warm pressure was a lifeline. "I - did you see what happened with - on Kef Bir?"

He squeezed a little harder. "Only that you were fighting, the water kept getting in the way. And then, I...I felt it too." He choked a little. "Leia."

Rey nodded, even if he couldn't see it. Finn went on.

"Jannah and I saw you take off, but Ren was still there. So we got out of there before he could come back for us."

Rey heard Poe drag in a constricted breath, half a sob, and reached for his hand too. His fingers were harder than Finn's, but his clasp was just as warm. "Why did she do it?" His voice was a whisper.

"She...she saved me. Distracted him." Rey could still feel the furious panic of knowing she was going to lose, skill outdone by weight and sheer brutal strength, and then Kylo's weird stillness, and she'd acted on reflex - a lightsaber through flesh hardly dragged at all -

The choice, that wasn't really a choice, because she could not do otherwise. Not because of the dyad; because of everything else.

"I stabbed him. Then I healed him."

No one said anything for a long moment, then Poe rolled up onto one elbow. "Why the hell did you do _that?_"

Rey flinched, and from Poe's other side a hairy arm pulled him down flat again. **_Let her finish,_** Chewie said.

Rey shrugged a little; the stars were blurring overhead, though her eyes were dry. "It was what he needed."

It was the closest she could come to explaining what she couldn't put into words. How giving him that gift was the only way she had to show him that she still believed in Ben. To prove that he was still worth saving.

Poe muttered something under his breath, but didn't interrupt.

Rey squeezed her eyes closed. "He followed me. To Exegol." She swallowed. "Ben Solo did."

She heard Finn suck in a breath. Chewie let out a low whine, almost inaudible.

"He _turned?_" Finn asked, voice hushed. "_Away_ from the Dark Side?"

"That's _shit,"_ Poe began, dropping her hand, but whatever else he said was muffled by fur.

"He fought the Emperor with me," Rey said, and it was _absurd_, packing all of that down into a few bare sentences. "He - the Emperor did something to him, to us, I was unconscious. When I woke up I was alone."

But not really.

"I fought the Emperor again, and I won. And…"

Her voice failed her, and she mouthed the words silently to the sky before forcing sound out. "I died."

Chewie swore. Poe's hand grabbed for hers again, bruising tight. Finn wrapped his other hand over her wrist, as if the words would somehow snatch her away. "I felt that," he said, voice thready. "You were - were _gone._ But you came back, and I thought I was wrong."

"Ben healed me." It was stark, bare, nothing of the incredible waking in Ben's lap, to see his reddened eyes watching her in dawning, disbelieving joy. "And it killed him."

And tore her in two, and how could she explain that even to them, her first and truest friends? How could they possibly understand what she barely comprehended herself?

There was a long, long silence.

Then Finn rolled over to envelop her in a hug. "I guess we owe him one, then," he said into her shoulder. "Doesn't make him any less of a rancor's asshole, though."

A wry laugh burst out of her, and Rey hugged him back hard. Poe's hand ruffled her hair, and Chewie chuckled.

They ended up in a messy pile with Chewbacca mostly on the bottom, the bottle empty and the whole thing a little easier to bear through the haze of alcohol. Rey was halfway to dozing off when Chewie growled low.

**_What did Kylo tell you, that hurt you? _**

Rey sighed again. She could refuse to tell them, she supposed, but what good would it do? She might put the others off, but when Chewbacca wanted to know something there was no getting out of it.

She pushed up to a sitting position, leaving a little space between herself and them, because if she felt tainted by her own blood, how would they feel?

"Emperor Palpatine was my grandfather." She let the words out all at once, before her courage failed her. Her skin suddenly felt ill-fitting, as if it didn't quite belong to her. "He wanted me to take the throne of the Sith and rule in his place."

Another silence, before Poe broke it. "And you told him where to stick it," he said easily.

Startled, Rey blinked.

"'Course she did," Finn said, sounding drowsy. "He's dead, isn't he?"

Chewie simply pulled her back down to the pile. Bemused, Rey allowed it, relaxing as various arms landed on top of her. "You don't mind," she said, a little disbelieving. "That I'm a Palpatine."

Finn snorted, and Poe made a derisive noise. "Oh please," Finn said. "Like that's any worse than the runner of spice here - "

"Says the _ex-Stormtrooper_ \- "

Their semi-drunken tussle was short-lived. Rey propped her head on Chewie's shoulder and closed her eyes again, listening to them laugh. The broken bond ached and burned, but the rest of her was at peace.


	2. A River Made of Light

**Just so you know, my canon is restricted to the original and sequel trilogies (I have forgotten as much of the prequels as I can) so I am making up stuff about the Force, etc., wholesale. If it ain't on screen, it probably ain't here.**

**And yes, I'm going to get them together. Eventually. *evil grin***

* * *

_Rey._

The thought was as automatic as breathing. Just a moment before she had been smiling at him, alive, _alive_ again, warm and vibrant under his hands, and now -

Where was she?

_Not here._ Confusion swamped him, and distress. He tried to reach for her, tried to lick his lips for one hint of her taste, but nothing seemed to work. He could feel something, but it wasn't the scintillating delight it had been - it was _wrong - Rey_ -

He opened, and awareness rushed in.

Light danced around him, vast and so _joyful_ that he almost couldn't comprehend it. There were no shadows anywhere but inside him, and even those seemed to be muted, grayed out by the intensity of –

\- The Force, it had to be. Nothing else could be this powerful, this _encompassing_. It held him like a fish in the ocean, surrounded by light like infinite water.

_I'm dead._

It wasn't entirely a surprise. He hadn't, after all, truly expected to survive Exegol. He had gone to find Rey, to help her, to be with her; and because he had been so wrong, and he had to try to mend what he had marred, even a little.

Grief tore through him. **_Rey._** They were apart again, and it was his fault. If he'd listened to her, believed her, trusted her, he could have taken her hand instead and -

_You would still be a monster._ It was stark fact. Here in the endless light, there was no escape from the truth. He had _chosen_ to be a monster, chosen again and again. He didn't deserve what he'd been given; and yet he couldn't stop wishing for it back.

Light, and guilt, and regret. He was still in it for a long time, unable to move; in fact, he didn't think he had a body to do the moving any longer. There was just _him_, and his memories, and his shadows, and his grief.

Even the joy did not touch his grief.

_Ben Solo._ It wasn't his name in words; it was an expression of all that he was, a discordant tangle of deeds and thoughts and emotions. _Why do you hold your pain so close to you?_

That which asked already knew the answer. But the reply flowed from him without effort. _Because it is all I have left._ And the other side of that coin: _Because I deserve it._

The Force sang around him, music complex beyond his ability to hear it all, yet somehow heart-lifting. _Will punishment change anything you have done?_

_No_. He couldn't deny it. _Nothing can change what I have done. That's why I deserve to be punished._

He couldn't understand why he was here, unless it was to be judged and destroyed. All the lives he'd ended, all the horror, seemed to drag at him, demanding that he pay, and he _wanted_ to, wanted to spill himself out in expiation. His father's dying face, his mother's dying whisper. They were stains, filthy, _ugly_. He could never, ever be clean.

Certainly not clean enough for the light that surrounded him now. Not clean enough to deserve mercy, or forgiveness.

Deep in the shadows of his sins was one bright spark, the only thing he had left of her. Selfishly, he held it close. _Rey_.

He'd done _something_ right, at the end. Even the bond they shared was tainted, some warped creation of Snoke's, but somehow she had saved him all the same. She'd declined to give him the death he deserved, and returning that gift to her had been the one shining moment of his life.

The spark seemed to pulse within him, life where none should be. _Will I have to let it go?_ he asked the Force wistfully. That would be the worst punishment of all, to lose that light and all that went with it. He'd tried to draw her to him, but instead she had set her heels and her spirit and pulled him back around, out of the darkness – _Rey_ –

He didn't have a body to produce tears, but somehow he wept all the same, for the ruin of it all and the terrible choices he'd made. _Let it end,_ he begged. _Let me **stop**. I should not exist any longer._

_Who are you to decide?_ The statement was gentle, and it bewildered him. _Ben Solo, you chose to do evil, and you chose to do good. Dissolution is for those who embrace evil without regret; their spirits cannot accept death, and so cannot survive. You are here._

Only truth was possible in the midst of that light. _But –_

_You are **here**_ reverberated through him. _You chose already._

He felt utterly helpless, pinned like an insect beneath this terrifying mercy, as if it might crush him into - what? The Ben Solo he should have been? _What good would that do **now**?_

There was no answer in anything approaching words, just a serene assurance that the question was...missing the point.

Something was coalescing within the brilliance, folding down into a column, taking form as it approached him. Ben realized it was a human being at the same moment he noticed he had a body again.

He looked down at it, distracted from the sharpening figure. The body was familiar, the tall and slightly awkward frame he'd finally grown into, but the scars and calluses on his hands were gone and nothing - _nothing_ \- hurt. He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't been in some form of pain.

But it was the blindingly clean robes of a Jedi covering the rest that raised his newly returned gorge. _I didn't earn these._

He fumbled for the fastenings, but before he could undo them a hand covered his, stilling it.

Ben looked up.

Luke was neither the wild-eyed man who had stood over Ben's bed all those years ago, nor the stony image that had taunted him on Crait. Nor was he a young man, exactly; it was more as if all the essence of him had been distilled and purified, and poured into a familiar form to which age was meaningless.

The sight of him stole the strength from Ben's limbs. His incandescent fury no longer existed; all that was left was the guilt and pain that had lain beneath it. Ben buried his face in his hands, as if that would help, and sank to his knees. _Skywalker_ twisted in his mouth to a choked "Uncle Luke - "

"_Ben_." The word was anguished, and strong arms wrapped around him, a firm embrace that he could not fight. "Ben, I'm so sorry for what I did to you."

It wasn't chiding; it was contrition. The apology was the last thing Ben expected, and without his rage he could not deny it.

And it _hurt_.

He curled into as tight a ball as he could, and shook, unable to believe the words, unable to defy them. _No, no, how can he – how -_

Luke held him through it, steadying him until the spasms subsided, until Ben could clutch a fistful of Luke's robes as if he were four again and whisper "I'm sorry too."

"I know." Luke pressed a rough kiss to the crown of Ben's head. "I know."

* * *

Time didn't seem to be a factor. They sat on some solid surface amidst the light; the Force was still all around them, but that sense of _attention_ was absent, rather to Ben's relief.

And...they talked. Or conversed; not all of it was in spoken words.

"We did fail you," Luke said, his face serene, but Ben could feel the sadness and regret beneath. "_I_ failed you. My moment of weakness drove you deeper into darkness."

And Ben could see it, sense it, Luke's horror and fear at Palpatine's shadow over Ben's heart, his panic and the shame that had followed when Ben had fought him off.

It soothed the old hurt, a little. But - "You were right, though," Ben said, unable to meet Luke's eyes just then. "I had already turned."

Memory spilled out of Ben in a tangled rush, the voices in his head, the fear, the disdain and rage. It was easy to see how his mentors _had_ failed him, but Ben knew very well that his own pride and temper had led him into Palpatine's clutches.

"I could have chosen differently," he said in the end, head bowed. His hands gripped one another in his lap; it was odd to see them without the burn scars from his saber-work or the old slash from a broken wire on the _Falcon_. "I chose the Dark Side."

"That's true," Luke said quietly. "And it's a burden you will have to carry with you. But you never stopped fighting it, Ben. If you had, no one could have brought you back."

Ben blinked. Luke's words flipped his perspective inside out. _Was I fighting to stay in the Light, all that time?_ He'd thought he was fighting the draw back to it.

It was so clear in his mind. The guilt overlaid with fury, the hurt and betrayal, the constant need to prove himself to someone who would never be satisfied. Trying so hard to be strong, while underneath doubt and desperate loneliness ate away at him.

All those opportunities to stop, and his pride and will won every time.

…Except the last.

"What can I do?" he asked Luke. "I can't fix it, I can't bring back all those lives. Can I be punished?"

Luke's mouth twisted wryly. "Ben…search your feelings. Your guilt and repentance _is_ your punishment. Nothing anyone could do to you would make up for what you've done, and none of it would work as well."

Ben frowned. "But I – "

Luke put his hand over Ben's clenched fist. "This is pride," he said. "Turned backwards, but still pride."

The little burst of anger in Ben's chest was familiar, even comforting, and it horrified him. _No!_ He gulped, and Luke's fingers tightened, helping him draw back from that precipice. _He's right._

Luke's tone went humorous. "You're not special. None of us here deserve the mercy we're granted, but we have to suffer it all the same."

His eyes were twinkling, and Ben's face felt odd; when had he last smiled?

_…Oh._

He looked down again. Body or no body, he could still see the shadows within himself, and the little spark nestled at the core of him. With infinite tenderness, he drew it out, watching it scintillate in the cup of his palms.

_This is going to hurt._

Ben held out the spark to Luke. "Take it. Please, take it."

Luke sighed. "Ben, we _just_ discussed this."

"No, it's not punishment, I – " He blinked, reconsidering. "Well…maybe a little. But that's not, that's not why!" Luke was giving him that skeptical look, and Ben swallowed, still holding out his hands.

"I don't deserve her," he said, bitter truth. "I never did. And she shouldn't be tied to a monster like me."

"I don't think she'd agree with you," Luke said dryly, and folded Ben's fingers over the spark. "Besides, once the Force has bound a dyad together, even death can't break them apart. As you can see."

"But we _shouldn't_ be bound!" Ben's voice cracked. "Snoke said he did it, to, to force us together, it's _wrong_ – "

And that was the worst of it, that something so sweet and strong should be nothing but the product of a twisted, malevolent mind. They'd fit together so well, those few brief moments when they'd finally stopped fighting it, fighting each other, _themselves_ – to know it was false, coerced, that the best thing in his miserable life was a lie –

If they couldn't break the bond, what would happen to Rey? Forced to spend her life, maybe even after, with an evil tie to a broken man?

"Ben. Ben, _listen_ to me." Luke's tight grip on his shoulder made Ben look up from his clenched fist. "Snoke _lied_. He tried to use that the way he used everything else."

Ben's spinning thoughts stuttered to a halt. Snoke _had_ lied to him, again and again, but that was the Sith way, to make the apprentice find the truth in the lies - always the hidden motivation, the plot behind the words…

"I…how else could it happen? She's a _Jedi_. And I'm…what I am."

Luke sighed again. "Dyads are very rare, but they can't be _coerced_. Any bond put in place by the Dark Side – well, let's just say you'd be able to tell."

With the statement came knowledge, a vision of what such a thing would be like – hatred and compulsion mixed, a hellish drawing together without joy or tenderness. Ben pushed it away, shuddering.

"Ben, dyads exist for a purpose. They bind two uniquely matched people who are capable of bringing forth great change when united."

The memory was immediate, all the mingled terror and delight of it, of knowing not Rey's thoughts but her emotions, her intentions; of the solidity of a touch-warmed saber hilt hitting his palm, and the one exquisite moment of facing Palpatine together, without division or conflict.

It had all gone to screaming hell, of course, but it had given Rey the opportunity to succeed. "We did do that," Ben murmured, unable to resist a tiny surge of pride. More in Rey than in himself, but it _had_ been a triumph.

"Exactly. Call it the Force's way of stacking the deck." Luke's smile was dry.

Ben looked down at his closed fist. The spark glowed so brightly he could see it through his own flesh. "But I'm dead. I can't help her now. And anyway…she deserves better than me." Because it was true; for all his remorse he was still a murderer of thousands, a monster who'd killed his own father and caused his mother's death.

Luke grimaced, impatient. "She's an impulsive, sometimes thoughtless, reckless young woman who makes wrong choices as often as anyone else. Don't put her on a pedestal, Ben."

Irritation edged Ben's voice. "I don't want to _put_ her anywhere. I want her to be free."

_No_, his longing cried; _yes_, he told it sternly. _Pedestal or no pedestal, she deserves better._

"It doesn't _matter_, nephew. Neither you nor I can break a dyad." Luke cupped a hand beneath Ben's fist, gazing down at the spark, and his voice was full of regret. "I should have done better by her."

"Is...is she okay?" Ben drew the spark back within himself, guilty and relieved, and nestled it carefully in the deepest spot.

Luke's hands opened in an uncertain gesture. "I think so."

That grabbed Ben's attention. "What do you mean, you _think_ so?"

Luke gave him a sharp look, then relented. "The Jedi came to Rey on Exegol to help her defeat the Emperor…all of us. We made an agreement."

He sighed. "We can't approach her without her permission. She can _invite_ us, but she has to make her own decisions."

Ben could see the sense in that. Having a thousand generations' worth of judgmental Jedi looking over one's shoulder would surely be enough to drive one mad.

"And she hasn't invited you." It wasn't a question. Rey, so fiercely independent, would probably try all other avenues before asking for help.

Luke shook his head. "She will eventually. But for now, we're forbidden."

Ben nodded mechanically. "I think...I think I need some time," he said after a moment. Whatever passed for a brain in this body was buzzing like a badly tuned shuttle drive.

Luke nodded and patted his shoulder, and for the first time Ben noticed that his missing hand was restored. "All the time you need," he said.

Ben puffed a breath, then frowned down at the robes his new body was wearing. "Do I _have_ to wear these?"

The odd communion was still in place, because Luke laughed. "It's completely up to you. But for pity's sake, Ben, not black _again_." He gave Ben one last pat, and simply disappeared.

_...How does he **do** that?_

There was, apparently, a lot to learn.

Ben looked down again, and...it wasn't the Force he reached for. More some impulse within himself. But the robes became not the unrelieved black of Kylo Ren, but a simple gray tunic and trousers, the lines echoing the playclothes of his childhood. Gray as the shadows within him.

It would do.


	3. Far Too Human to Let Go

"You were asleep for _three days,_ Rey." Finn stood blocking the doorway with his hands on his hips, as if Rey couldn't move him with one hand - or her mind. "You need to _rest_."

"She needs to do something," Poe corrected from his seat on the couch, half-muffled by the mouthful of bread he was chewing. Rey shot him a grateful look. "We could sure use your help on the repair detail."

Finn made an exasperated noise, and Rey pushed away from the table she was leaning on to come over and kiss his cheek. "He's right," she said as he blinked in surprise. "But I'll take it easy, I promise."

"All right, all right," Finn grumbled, moving aside enough for her to pass, then shouted after her. "But be careful!"

Rey made a rude gesture behind her own back, and grinned at his snort of laughter. But the grin faded as she made her way outside and towards the remaining ships parked nearby.

Everything seemed to take so much more effort now, even though the wounds she'd taken at Exegol were healing. Rey knew that the shattering of the dyad bond had damaged her somehow, but the Jedi texts Rey possessed had little to say about what happened when one was broken. The only information was that when one of a pair died, the other didn't survive very long.

_I want to live. Ben gave his life for mine, and I need to honour that._ But she could almost see Leia's raised brow, and Rey sighed.

_No. _She passed a cleanup crew with a nod and a wave, ignoring the awed whispers behind her back. _I _**_have_**_ to live._ _Wanting has nothing to do with it._

The burning pain at the bottom of Rey's soul was a constant, silent call. _Give in,_ it seemed to whisper. _Let go. Join him in the Force. No more pain, no more separation. _

_ You will not be alone._

_I'm _**_not_**_ alone,_ she snarled back, as fierce as if it were Palpatine's own voice in her head. _I have friends. I have a __family__. I won't waste Ben's gift!_

And there were all the Jedi, too, a presence in the back of her head - polite, waiting to be invited, but undeniably there. Rey knew what they expected of her. That she, hastily half-trained and Force-bonded to a dead murderer, would grow to become the Master of a new line of Jedi. _You are the only one,_ their expectant silence said. _It must be you._

Never mind that Rey had only a new apprentice's idea of training, and no living mentor to aid her. She had no temple, no academy, she'd never even had proper Jedi robes.

_I have the texts, and two lightsabers,_ she thought stubbornly, scooping up a toolkit and picking out a battered little hopper near the edge of the field. _I was trained by the last two Jedi in existence and if I want to I can get advice from __any__ of them. _

It still felt like an insurmountable burden. Becoming a Jedi wasn't anything Rey had ever thought about; growing up, she had barely known they existed. She'd gone looking for Luke to draw him back to the Resistance, not to become his student.

_I took it up because it was an easy choice, and...and because somebody needed to do it and Luke wasn't. _Rey pried a dented panel off the hopper and donned welding gloves and goggles to work on the mangled hull support. _Everything happened so fast…_

Going after Kylo Ren to try to turn him had been _insane._ She could admit that now. _Except the dyad bond was probably activated the first time we set eyes on each other. I'm not sure I even had a choice._

She mended hull for hours, breaking off only to find more scrap metal or guzzle water. Her thoughts still went in circles, but at least they were wider ones.

When darkness fell, Rey lit a cold bar and kept working. It was better to keep busy.

Poe understood.

* * *

_I still don't know what I'm doing._

Finn signed off on a shipment of unused munitions that was going up in one of the freighters, giving the pilot a nod of approval, but it felt fake. The busy hum of the Resistance base was ebbing day by day as people packed up and returned to their homes - those who still had them - and while people still called him _General_, Finn felt like an imposter.

_What the hell do I know about peace?_

He'd been raised to be a soldier, cannon fodder for the First Order. He'd been a full adult before he'd ever made a real decision for himself. And while Finn knew he had a place to stay, with Rey and Poe, he had absolutely no idea what to do next.

Well, there was that offer to go with Lando and Jannah and her tribe when they started their search for their families. But - Finn could see Rey cutting across the open space in front of the cave, and he was pretty sure he wasn't the only one feeling lost.

And as much as he would love to find his own family, Finn kind of had one already. One that needed him.

"'Scuse me, General, who gets the extra battery packs? We need the space for repairs on the Epstein drives."

He swung around to face the small Usurian who bore another set of forms and a worried expression. "Those are going to the depot, ask Junior who's taking them."

The Usurian nodded and hurried off. Finn looked back in time to see Rey disappearing into the forest, and he set a stern expression on his face to ward off interruptions and went to catch up.

General Organa - Leia - had set up a Jedi training course for Rey, not far from the base by virtue of necessity, and everyone had politely stayed out of that section of the forest. Finn didn't think Jedi training was _secret_, exactly, but the whole thing seemed to be fairly mysterious, and if there was one thing he'd picked up since he'd joined the Resistance, it was treating other people's religions with respect.

Stormtroopers didn't have a religion. Anything like that was strictly forbidden - their loyalty was to the First Order only.

_Not that that stopped us._ Finn stepped into the cover of the trees. There were all kinds of small secret rituals - putting the left glove on first, scratching a mark on the underside of one's bunk after every successful mission, that kind of thing. But nobody _talked_ about it. Superstition was a taboo topic.

Rey wasn't in sight, but Finn could tell where she was; just one more manifestation of the odd power that had begun unfolding inside him. He followed the sense deeper, along a twisting path, some part of him still awed by the beauty of this green world.

Finn had never expected to view any planet save through the eye shields of his helmet. _Now I've kind of lost count of how many I've seen._

He found Rey perched in a dead tree, high enough that he had to tilt his head back to look up at her. "Hey. How're you feeling?"

She gave him a dry look. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

_Because you look so damn tired,_ Finn thought, but he kept it to himself. "Because we care about you. Can you come down? I need to ask you something."

Rey rolled her eyes, then dropped her staff. She flipped forward and somersaulted through the air to land on her feet in front of him, catching the staff neatly before it hit the ground.

Finn poked her. "Show-off."

That made her grin. "What is it?"

Finn hesitated. "You remember on Pasaana, when we got stuck in that sinking sand?"

"Of course." Rey sobered. "You wanted to tell me something?"

Finn bit his lip. "I...I can sense the Force. Have for a while now."

Rey stared at him, a slow smile blooming. "I know," she said.

Finn frowned, outraged. "You _know?_ You knew all this time?"

"No. Well, sort of." Rey laughed and slung the staff onto her back. "I mean, I knew there was something, but I didn't have time to _think_ about it. Finn, that's marvelous!"

Finn blinked, then felt an answering grin spread over his face. "So can you teach me?"

That made Rey's mouth drop open. Finn turned up his hands. "You're the last Jedi, Rey. You're the only one who _can._"

She bit her lip. "I…I suppose."

She looked so uncertain that Finn began to regret the question. "If you don't want to, that's - "

"No." Rey gripped his arm in a quick squeeze. "No, Finn, of course you should have a teacher. And you're right, there's no one else."

She let out a baffled laugh. "It's just...I didn't think it would happen this _fast._ I was still an apprentice, you know. So it won't exactly be traditional."

"Don't care." Finn bounced on his toes, excitement swelling. And pride, because the weary look had ebbed, and Rey stood a little straighter.

Rose had been right, but that wasn't all of it. _We win by helping each other too._ In the First Order, you survived on your own merits or you were ground underfoot.

In the Resistance, you held out a hand.

_Not sure we're the Resistance any more. But still._

"So when can we start?" He gave her an eager look, and Rey laughed again.

"Right now, if you like." She beckoned to him, starting down the path away from the base. "There are three lessons to begin with, Master Luke taught me…"

Finn followed, rejoicing.

* * *

The pilot's seat in the _Falcon_ was notoriously uncomfortable, in part because Han had spent most of the decades he'd flown the ship sitting on the front edge of it. Rey circumvented the weird tilt by sitting back and propping her ankles on the console; since she wasn't flying anywhere, it didn't matter. The cockpit was just a good place to be quiet in.

She felt in her tunic for Han's dice, spilling them out into her palm and wondering if she should put them back where they'd hung for so long. But the thought raised a lump in her throat. They were all she had left of Ben.

_I found them. They're mine now._

Rey put them back in the hidden pocket; the small hard lump was almost a comfort. The viewport showed mostly trees, with bits of sky between the leaves, and Rey wondered when autumn came to this world, or if it came at all. She'd seen snow, now, but a few of the Resistance people had mentioned the beauty of leaves when they began to die, and she was curious.

Had Ben known what autumn was like?

Her thoughts always came back to him eventually. The burning in her soul was a constant reminder, a continuous ache; and what hurt almost as much was the knowledge that there were so many things they could have shared if events had been just a little different.

Rey knew that Jedi weren't supposed to mourn like this. _But it's not like Master Luke was exactly emotionless._ And Master Leia had never required that kind of excision from her.

It was exhausting. The loss of Ben was the deepest hurt, but Rey kept returning to the others as well – Leia, Luke, Han. Far too many Resistance fighters.

Her parents.

_I always thought they'd come back._

It wasn't entirely true; some part of her subconscious had known she would never see them again. But Rey had stubbornly kept faith, waiting, hoping, scratching days into paint until the entire wall was textured with years.

Sometime in the whirlwind of escaping Jakku and fighting a war she had accepted that they were gone forever. But it meant that she was truly what everyone had thought her – an orphan, without family.

How strange that it was leaving Jakku that had given her the truth of it all.

_You could see Leia again. Or Luke. If you want them. _

She wasn't even sure if the thought was entirely her own. The Jedi were always at the back of her mind, a vast host; never intruding, but never gone either. Rey didn't know when the knowledge had come to her, but after Exegol, after accepting them into herself, she knew that she could summon any member of those thousand generations. They all stood ready to give her advice, to support her in bringing back the Jedi power to the galaxy.

_I'm not ready._

Rey felt as if she were being a coward about it. But once that door was opened, she thought, it could never close entirely. And while she wanted to see Leia so _much_ – it felt selfish to just ask a Force spirit to appear for comfort's sake.

_I have to do this on my own. For now. _Finn was doing well, given that they were both amateurs at it all, and there was still plenty of the Skywalkers' teaching to work through before she would be on new ground.

And asking the Jedi in would make it all too real that –

She wrenched her thoughts away from that path. Again and again.

Eventually the creak of metal underfoot intruded, and Rey almost welcomed the sound; she wasn't meditating, her mind just kept going in circles. When Chewbacca slid past her to take the copilot's seat, Rey's nascent annoyance vanished. Sometimes he seemed to be the only person who didn't look at her and see _Jedi_ all over her.

Chewbacca handed her a sandwich and a handful of capnuts without comment, and Rey bit into the food enthusiastically; he had a sandwich three times the size for himself, and they ate lunch in companionable silence, untroubled by droids, porgs, or people who couldn't remember where they'd left their spanners.

He waited until they were both finished, Rey nipping up the crumbs – she never wasted a calorie – before shifting in his seat to regard her.

**_Something troubles you, young one,_** he said, rumbling low. **_More than mourning for your losses. You smell of a wound that isn't healing. _**

If he'd asked, Rey might have denied it, but the statement seemed to lie between them like an offering instead of a demand. Rey breathed out.

"Something happened, between me and Ben," she began, trying to organise her thoughts. "I – I thought it was a bad thing, until I found it in the Jedi texts."

She still didn't know how to explain it, but unlike Poe and Finn, Chewie seemed never to judge. "We were linked, somehow. The texts call it a dyad in the Force."

Chewbacca let out a short bark, surprised laughter. **_One of those? Yes, I can see it._** He sobered, and a big hand stroked her hair. **_That's a heavy burden._**

Rey was so startled that she almost missed the sympathy. "You've _heard_ of them?"

He snorted. **_They were hardly a secret when I was young, before the Jedi disappeared. A myth, but there were stories._** His gaze fixed on hers, calm and a little sad. **_You would have paired well with the Ben I remember. Both of you strong of spirit._**

Rey pressed her eyes closed. The burning swelled up within her, then sank back. "It hurts," she whispered. "It never stops hurting."

Chewbacca said nothing, but the hand returned, urging her gently from the seat. Rey turned her hot face into his soft fur and let him hold her again.

Her throat was knotted, but her eyes stayed dry. All her tears were gone, and Rey felt as withered as the deserts she'd grown up in, scattered with the wrecks of hope. There was only the steady beat of a great heart under her ear.

It would have to be enough.


	4. A Wall of Silence, Miles Across

Finn pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting the headache that came from trying to read this particular Jedi text. _It's not the language, it's the handwriting._ It was an archaic dialect, but not unmanageable; but Finn wondered if he could someday summon the Jedi responsible and read them a lecture on _spacing_.

"How's it going?" Rey asked, looking up from her own volume, and Finn shrugged.

"I'm getting most of it, I think. Hey, do you think we could have C-3PO translate some of these for us?"

Rey's admonishing look was spoiled by her smirk. "No shortcuts allowed, apprentice." She craned her neck to see what page he was on. "You're doing well, don't worry. It took me weeks to get that far."

Finn blinked, looking down at the worn pages. "Really?"

Rey shrugged. "Master Luke had to teach me to read, first." At his gape, she turned up a hand. "I remembered how, a little, but Unkar Plutt wasn't exactly one for books."

Finn grimaced in bemused sympathy. For all its flaws, the First Order did educate its soldiers - not extensively, but every child conscripted was taught all the major languages as well as basic mathematics, astrogation, and other practicalities. The literature available to them was restricted, of course, but at least they had _access._

"Sometimes I found scraps," Rey went on, not particularly disturbed. "Bits of things chewed up in crashes, or hidden in bulkheads. But they never lasted long."

She stroked the text she held, an affectionate gesture. "I'm grateful to Master Luke for putting these in the _Falcon_ for me, though I don't know why he didn't just give them to me straight out."

That sounded weird to Finn, but he didn't want to argue with her. He _had _noticed that they seemed to have more pages than the bindings could hold, but it was nothing he could pin down exactly and he was a little afraid to ask about it.

Because what if Rey hadn't noticed?

Sometimes Finn wished she had another student, because there were times when he _really _wanted to talk about the whole Jedi thing with someone who wasn't his teacher, and Poe always got weird when Finn brought it up. But Jannah was the only other Force-sensitive person he knew of, and she and Rose were off-planet with Lando.

_Poe…_

_I don't know what to do about Poe._

Finn bit back a sigh. Poe had been his first real friend outside of his squad, and the factor that had tipped Finn over into actual revolt. He'd gone from blind admiration of Poe's courage and skill to the sort of squabbling, teasing friendship he'd once barely imagined could exist. The man could irritate Finn like no one else, sometimes, but he was also Finn's family, now. He _and_ Rey.

But Poe was acting weird, lately. At first Finn had put it down to envy; it was pretty clear that Poe was a little jealous of their Force powers, or maybe just of Rey's lightsaber. But he seemed to be busy all the time now, and it felt like Finn hardly saw him. It made Finn feel anxious, and it wasn't a sensation he enjoyed.

He knew they needed to talk, but what was he supposed to say?

_Focus now. Worry later. _

Finn flipped forward to the next section, one written much more legibly, and started reading about Force bonds, and linkages, and -

He didn't know what about the passage caught his attention, but the sense inside him was suddenly shouting about it. He scanned it quickly -

\- And the whole thing fell into place, like taking a perfect shot or completing a puzzle. _Wait. What?_

He looked back up to Rey, astonished and horrified. "A dyad bond. You had a _dyad bond_ with Kylo Ren?"

Rey went white, and Finn dropped the text as he sprang up, because she looked like she was going to pass out. But she flinched away from his hand on her arm, steadying herself on the packing case.

Finn backed up a step, because Rey suddenly looked like a stranger - a _desperate_ stranger. She shook her head.

"I _have_ a dyad bond," she said, hardly more than a whisper. "What's left of it, anyway."

Finn stared at her, then bent for the text and scrabbled back to the relevant page, careless of the book's age. "But it says here that - that if one of you dies - "

He bit his tongue, too late to stop the words. But Rey just shrugged.

"Ben...gave me his life," she said, and he could see the grief that saturated her as if it were a color. "I think...I think that's what saved me."

He'd seen that kind of desolation, just a handful of weeks ago, when they were tallying up the dead after the battle - all the ships that hadn't made it back. He'd seen it in far too many faces, and seeing it in _hers_ was almost unbearable.

Finn couldn't even imagine how it felt.

He dropped the book again and did the only thing he could think of. This time she let him touch her, ducking into his embrace as if to hide, and he hugged her hard.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered into her hair, and felt her chest heave as if with a sob, though the cheek pressed to his ear stayed dry. He didn't hate Kylo Ren any less, but oh how he hurt for Rey. "It...it's not fair."

She shook again, with a laugh this time. "Since when is anything fair?"

"Got me there." Finn pulled back enough to look at her. "Wait, though. Can't you - "

He bit his lip, not sure how to phrase it. "Can't he...you know...come back? Like a Force spirit?"

Rey had explained how the Jedi were available to her if she called to them, implying that they might someday do the same for Finn, and the idea had been more frightening than enticing. But surely seeing Ren would comfort her at least -

She extracted herself gently from his hold. "You need to read that section of the text again."

Finn obeyed, sorting through the tomes for the correct one and then paging forward to the part about Force manifestations. The writing in this one was precise and clear, if faded.

_Only achievement and long experience can grant this ability,_ it said, _and even then not all masters can muster the strength to manifest. It is done only in times of great need or significance._

He looked up. Rey was leaning against the packing case, arms crossed. "Ben was an apprentice," she said softly. "Never a full Jedi."

_Oh._

"Well, _that's_ terrible," Finn said, and Rey shrugged. "Rey...you know if there's anything we can do…"

"I know." Rey smiled, and he could see the sorrow, but it was a real smile. She handed him the other book. "Back to work, you still have a text to finish."

Finn took it obediently, but his chest ached with an echo of her sorrow, and he wondered how long she could bear it.

* * *

Ben wandered through the featureless space for what seemed like a long time, though time itself didn't seem to have much meaning in that place. It should have been oppressive, but instead it offered a sort of joyful calm. Under other circumstances Ben might have appreciated it; calm had been in short supply in his life, and joy practically nonexistent. But even as his turbulent emotions ebbed, the shadows remained.

Memory haunted him, as fresh as if it had all just happened - which he supposed it had. Water _everywhere_, soaking into everything, cold and irritating and gluing his hair to his face -

A deadly dance with his...his _rival,_ Han's protégée, Luke's new student, his mother's adopted apprentice - everything he should have been but wasn't - the ungrateful, defiant scavenger who refused her destiny, refused _him_, snarled and fought and kept turning _away_ -

Anger growing as blade met blade, knowing that she was good enough to beat him if he wasn't very careful, all that shining power and she could go _back_, go where he couldn't, it wasn't _fair_ -

That moment when rage lifted his saber, dark triumph sneering - he would frighten her, make her yield - but then -

Even now his mind shied away from what came next, the whisper that had echoed through his head, the devastating shock of loss. _No_ -

Pain - he'd known pain of all kinds under Snoke's tutelage, worse pain even, but none so final. Knowing it was all over, all his pride and ambition ending on a wet slab of corroding metal, and yet what he felt was regret, not anger, it was all so small and _useless_ -

Her hand, spread wide - the swirling influx of energy, draining the agony, pulling away the gurgle of blood filling his lung, giving him back his _life_ \- how _could_ she, how could she even contemplate it after what he'd done -

_I wanted to take your hand. Ben's hand._

Her eyes, so frightened and desolate - it hurt to see them - and then she was gone, before he could formulate a clear thought, let alone a word.

And he was empty.

Ben let the memory fade, troubled. _How_ had Rey believed in him? Her eyes had pierced him through more sharply than his saber, everything that he'd tried so hard to kill made real in her sight. The monster had become the man in the light of her gaze.

_I wish I could see her, even for a minute. Even if she couldn't see me._ It would be better that way, in fact. But Ben had fled before his training was completed, and he was not a Jedi. _There's no way to reach her. _

_ ...Is there?_

He reached for the spark within himself and brought it out. It wasn't an actual object, he knew that, more a representation of the dyad bond and Rey herself, but it was nonetheless infinitely precious. Ben settled cross-legged on the ground...floor...flat surface, bent his head over the spark, and concentrated.

_I have no idea what I'm doing._ He felt clumsily for the tug on his soul, running a mental hand along it like someone holding a guide-rope, and closed his eyes.

It was startlingly easy to follow that pull with his mind. Out of the brilliant light of that place, though Ben knew he wasn't actually moving at all; into darkness and deafness and the loss of all sensation.

But sensory deprivation was a standard part of training for both Jedi and Sith, and Ben had endured much worse. He leaned into the bond and kept his concentration as sharp as a blade.

The world came into focus all at once. It was the corridor of a big ship, not one he recognized, and he was hurrying along with a fat volume by Professor Thripthead in his hands, only they weren't _his_ hands, they were Rey's.

_Oh - she's dreaming._

And he was seeing things from her point of view, which was _extremely_ peculiar. All the more so when she looked up and saw _him_ walking next to her.

The muted rush of joy and grief was hers, though it made Ben's own throat tighten, somewhere. They were talking - some nonlinear conversation about nebulae and droids, standard dream illogic - but he could feel her sleeping mind yearning hopelessly, and it made him want to rage, or weep. _Stop_, he urged his own image. _Just stop, and hold her, it's what she wants -_

But he was a mere passenger, and the corridor became a stone hut full of metallic birds and Rey was trying to get through them to make some food, and the image of him was nowhere to be seen. The dream dissolved, and Ben felt her mind rise towards waking on a wave of mourning and desolation so strong that he almost cried out.

The connection broke.

Ben found himself back in his current body, tears on its unmarred cheeks, and a strange wonder stirred inside him. _It's the dyad,_ he told himself. _That's why it hurts her so much._

And yet, to be so _missed_…

He didn't deserve that grief, but neither did Rey deserve to feel it. Ben wished desperately that he could reach her while she was awake, to at least try to soothe a little of that pain. And, selfishly, to speak with her, at least one more time. Not to beg for the forgiveness he didn't deserve; just to tell her he was sorry. To say _you were right. I was wrong._

Luke was right; pride didn't matter here.

_I'll keep trying._

What else could he do?

* * *

"That's it." Rey kept her voice low so as not to interrupt Finn's concentration. "Remember, size and weight mean nothing to the Force. That's _our_ perception." She shot a warning look at the two observing droids, but they were getting better about not interrupting.

"Then why are you making me start small?" Finn sounded a little strained, but the handful of pebbles hovering in front of him didn't fall. He looked a sight, sitting with his legs crossed and his eyes screwed shut, and Rey had to smile.

She stretched out her hand until it almost brushed his nose, and snapped her fingers.

Finn's eyes popped open, and the pebbles shot off at an angle, slamming into a tree before dropping to the ground. BB-8 squeaked, and D-O flinched back.

"_That's_ why," Rey said with a grin. "It's easier on your surroundings."

Finn glared. _"Rude."_

She shrugged. "Things happen. You have to be ready for them."

He snorted, and Rey gathered the pebbles back up with a circling motion, piling them back in front of him. "You should have seen what Master Luke did to me. He had a _vile_ sense of humour."

Finn poked at one of them. "I only got a glimpse of him at Crait, but the others...they said it was obvious he was Leia's twin."

Rey nodded. "I couldn't see it at first, but after a while - yeah." She sighed; the loss of Luke and Leia wasn't the burning ache of missing Ben, but it hurt all the same. "I hope they're together now."

"Yeah, me too." They exchanged glances, and for a moment they weren't teacher and student; they were orphans who had grown up alone, who had lost the most important people in their lives...more than once.

Then Finn sighed in turn, rubbing a hand over his face. "Can I try again?"

"Stretch first." They both stood up to work the kinks out. "Master Luke used to tell me that being a Jedi wasn't about moving rocks, but it seems like I do a lot of it."

Finn rolled his head on his neck, then regarded her speculatively. "This stuff - it's the same thing as what you did to me on Kef Bir, isn't it?"

Rey felt a flush of shame at the memory. "Yes. Basically."

"Why did you do that?" Finn's frown was as much hurt as anger, and Rey winced. "Why did you just - " He waved one hand. " - Toss me away?"

Rey threw up her own hands. "Because Kylo Ren would have killed you! Or, or used you against me." She bit her lip. "Or - _okay_, I panicked."

Finn, arms crossed, studied her for a moment, then nodded. "That's fair."

"I - what?" Rey blinked at him.

"Perfectly legitimate response." Finn unfolded his arms and slung one across her shoulders. "And you were right, I should have stayed out of it. But that's not what friends do, you know?"

Slowly, Rey smiled, and put her own arm around his waist. "I know."

For a long moment she rested in his patient strength. Then she pinched him gently and pulled away when he yipped. "Back to work, apprentice. Let's try it again."

He stuck out his tongue at her, and obeyed.


	5. The Lonely Face of the Angel Above

**1\. We'll get back to Finn and Poe. Really. :)**

**2\. Sorry about the angst. I'll fix it in the end, promise!**

* * *

_Where the hell is he?_

Finn stomped down the base's main corridor. He'd already been this way, but he still hadn't found Poe, and he was starting to get fed up. _He's been avoiding me for days. Avoiding __us__._

And Finn was terribly afraid he knew why.

The new senses he was honing under Rey's tutelage waited to be used - with them he could find Poe without difficulty - but Finn ignored their tempting. _I won't…_

_ ...I won't do that to him._

Because the Force powers made Poe nervous. Finn suspected Poe was even a little afraid of them.

_Can't blame him, really._ Finn knew that Kylo Ren had used the Force to rip into Poe's mind, and they'd _all_ seen what could happen when a Jedi lost control.

_And that thought redirection trick is pretty creepy, even when it's the good guys using it._

So Finn used his eyes only. Even when he was getting frustrated at the lack of _results._

Finally it occurred to him to try the one place Poe found most secure. Back out into the fading sunset, across the half-empty landing field - most of the ships left were still undergoing repairs - to the battered X-wing parked half-under the cover of the trees.

The First Order might be gone, but some habits died hard.

Poe was standing behind the little fighter, doing something to one of the exhaust ports and talking with BB-8, who was up in the droid bay.

"No?" Poe said as Finn got close enough to hear. "Try the other circuit."

BB-8 chirped in greeting, and Poe's head snapped up as Finn waved back. "Oh, hey," Poe said, and Finn could _see_ him reaching for casual. "What's up, Jedi Master?"

Finn crossed his arms, ignoring the usual jibe. "I could ask you the same thing."

Poe frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you've been _avoiding_ me, and Rey, and I want to know why."

Poe scoffed, turning back to his repair. "I've been right here."

"Yeah? So why do we hardly ever see you? You don't even eat with us any more."

"Maybe it's because you're always _busy_." Poe shoved at something in the open panel, then swore at the cracking sound that resulted. He spun to face Finn, running a gloved hand through his hair distractedly.

"Look, I _get_ it. You've got this Jedi - _power_, and you want to learn how to use it. Of course you do."

"Yeah. I do." Learning that he _had_ this gift had opened up so much inside him. Part of Finn was still reeling at how his life had changed - how everything he expected for himself was blown to plasma, replaced by so much _more_ than he could possibly have imagined. "That doesn't mean I have to give up my friends."

"Doesn't it?" Poe looked away again, fidgeting with the hydrowrench he'd been using. "I know where all this is leading. You and Rey are going to go found a new Jedi temple. Which is great!" he added hastily. "We need the Jedi back."

Finn regarded him, throat closing a bit at this vision. "But?"

"But there's no room for ordinary people in there, Finn." Poe leaned an elbow on the X-wing, ignoring BB-8's worried buzz. "I'm just a pilot, I'm not Force-sensitive. I've got no place in that."

"You're not ordinary," Finn managed, but it wasn't what he wanted to say. If he were honest, he hadn't thought that far down the line; he was too busy learning everything Rey could teach him, driven by some internal itch he couldn't pin down.

"You know what I mean." Poe turned back to the panel, poking at something inside. "We were going to go find more of those First Order Stormtroopers, you and me, remember? Figure out who wanted to defect like you did."

Which was true, and Finn hadn't _forgotten_ about it, exactly. He'd just kind of…put it on hold. "Look, I don't know if Rey really wants to do that whole temple thing, we haven't discussed it."

"Doesn't matter." Poe grunted, twisted something, and tossed the hydrowrench aside before looking back at Finn. His eyes were red-rimmed, and the sight made Finn's stomach sink. "You're gonna be a Jedi, and that means...whatever being a Jedi involves. Not hanging around with ex-spice-runners."

"Leia did," Finn couldn't help pointing out, but Poe only snorted and looked down, rubbing at a grease smear on his wrist.

"You know what I mean." He sighed. "I'm happy for you, Finn, I really am. But...it hurts."

Something hot and painful rose up in Finn, but he didn't let it out. He took two steps forward and put his hands on Poe's shoulders, looking straight into his startled eyes. "You're wrong," Finn said forcefully. "But I have to talk to Rey."

Stormtroopers had nothing to do with affection, either giving or receiving, but Finn was a fast learner, and observant. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the crease between Poe's brows. "Don't go anywhere," he said, stern, and let him go.

Poe was gaping at him, and Finn pointed at him. "You heard me. _Nowhere."_

He spun, and ran towards the training ground, letting his senses stretch out. _Rey,_ he could find.

* * *

_Be with me._

The words hovered at the forefront of Rey's mind, but she didn't speak them, aloud or silently. She could feel the Jedi there, just on the other side of life, but - _I'm still not ready_.

They wanted to join her, Rey knew. The Jedi of the past were eager to offer advice and guidance, to help her recreate their Order. And she had every intention of doing so, but -

_Not yet. _

Things were still too uncertain. The fall of the First Order was still fresh, and Rey was still trying to figure out what to do next. Still healing.

Or trying to.

And trying to maintain a meditative trance when her very soul hurt without cease, which was surprisingly difficult. The approach of Finn, his usual strength roiled with agitation, didn't help, and Rey let go her trance with a sigh, opening her eyes and trying not to be grateful for the interruption.

She unfolded her legs and dropped to the ground just as Finn came into view. He was puffing a little from his run, and she frowned, alarmed. "What's the matter? Did something happen?"

Finn shook his head, waving both hands. "No, everything's fine," he said breathlessly. "I just - I need to ask you something."

"Again?" Rey asked, relaxing towards amusement, and Finn rolled his eyes. "What is it?"

He blew out a breath and tugged his jacket down. "What are we doing?"

Rey regarded him. "I assume you don't mean 'standing around in the forest'."

"What are we doing _here?_ What's our long-term goal?" Finn regarded her earnestly. "Are you going to found a new Jedi temple or what?"

Rey blinked. "I suppose, yes." His brows drew together, and Rey sensed a wave of conflict from him - a new emotion, usually he was either content or a little frustrated with whatever he was learning. "But Finn, that doesn't have to be _your_ goal."

"It doesn't." He cocked his head. "It doesn't?"

Rey held out a hand and called her staff to her. "Finn, I'm happy to teach you, and if you want to teach others, that would be lovely. But it's not a _requirement._"

He still looked uncertain, and Rey patted his arm. "Look, just tell me what's going on, okay? Maybe I can help. Jedi Masters are supposed to listen to their students and give advice - at least, that's what they did for me."

Finn opened his mouth, but before he could speak the hum of a landing vessel distracted them both. There wasn't much sky visible through the trees, but the shape was big enough to be distinctive.

"Isn't that General Calrissian's ship?" Finn squinted. "Why's he back already?"

Rey shrugged, looping her staff over her shoulder. "We'll find out soon enough," she said, and they set off at a quick walk.

The general's cruiser was a fine ship, Rey thought, a Corellian model of much more recent make than the _Falcon_ \- and in better condition. She'd half-expected Chewbacca to offer the _Falcon_, back when Lando had first left, but Chewie seemed determined to stay with them. And Rey was glad he had.

Chewbacca seemed to think she had some kind of half-share in the _Falcon_, even though she wasn't Solo blood at all, but to her mind it belonged wholly to him.

_He probably feels kind of lost too._

Most of the remnants of the Resistance personnel were gathering as the ship settled into place - departures were much more common than arrivals these days, and everyone knew who had just landed. Rey and Finn arrived just as the hatch ramp hit the ground, and she couldn't help smiling as Lando strode down it. There were a few cheers, and he waved at the crowd, beaming back.

"What are you all still doing here?" he called to them, and Rey could see how he had led so many into battle; just the sight of his energy was enough to lift hearts, even if he was older and more tired. "Go home, you have a Republic to rebuild!"

He passed into the crowd, shaking hands with various people, but when he saw Rey and Finn his grin widened.

"Master Rey! Just who I came to see. And General Finn," he added, pulling Finn into a hug. "Where's General Dameron?"

It felt strange to have anyone besides Finn address her as _master_. Finn thumped Lando on the back and let him go. "He was on repair detail earlier. Where's Rose and Jannah?"

Rey gave Lando a hug in turn, and he sobered a little looking at her. "They're on Rirhath B, working on the reclamation project," Lando replied, turning back to Finn. "I left them Threepio and Artoo to help out; that sort of thing is a protocol droid's dream."

He lowered his voice. "Can we talk?"

* * *

They met an hour later in the _Falcon,_ Chewbacca and the droids rounding out the party. Lando sat back on the bench with a sigh, suddenly looking much more tired.

"What's this all about, General?" Poe had his arms crossed, and Rey could tell he was as agitated as Finn had been earlier, though he was keeping it off his face.

Lando looked around at all of them, one by one. "What are you still doing here?" he repeated.

This time there was no amusement in the question. Rey eyed him. "What do you mean?"

Lando turned up a hand, sweeping it in a half-circle to encompass them. "I mean, you are the heroes of the Resistance. Two generals, the last Jedi, and a living legend. Why are you still buried on a backwater planet? The galaxy _needs_ you."

Rey glanced at the others. Finn and Poe looked as confused as she felt; Chewbacca was unreadable. "Um, needs us to do _what_?" Finn asked.

Lando sighed. "To _lead_, General. You held the Resistance together, you won the war. You defeated the Emperor." His gaze flicked to Rey. "The Republic is rebuilding itself, forming a new council, and you need to be there. There are plenty of politicians, but the galaxy needs to see _you_."

Poe rubbed his jaw. "That's...not something we know how to do," he said carefully.

Lando gave him a sad smile. "Like I said before, nobody does. But that doesn't mean it doesn't have to be done." His smile warmed. "And you still have each other."

Finn shifted uncomfortably, and Poe's mouth tightened, but Rey was distracted by Lando's vision. "You want us to...join the Council?"

"They can't refuse you," Lando said. "Master Rey, the Republic needs your perspective, your experience as those who fought, _really_ fought, for the Resistance. All of you. And they need _your_ voice as the one remaining Jedi."

He leaned back, his posture open. "If you want a place for the Jedi in the new Republic, you need to make it."

Rey fought back a wave of panic. "I...how do I do that?"

Chewbacca gave a dry bark of laughter. **_Walk in and look stern. They won't challenge you._**

BB-8 whistled an offer to handle it for her. Rey started to refuse, then felt her lips twist in a smile. _Never underestimate a droid._

"We'll need an assistant, won't we?" She looked at Finn and Poe; BB-8 wasn't _her_ droid, after all.

The two of them exchanged a long look, one she couldn't read, and then Poe smirked, the look he got when he was _plotting._ "We sure will."

Lando rubbed his hands together and grinned.

* * *

It was a little disorienting to realize that time wasn't passing the same way it had when Ben was alive. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure that time was a _thing_ any more, except that there was _before_ and _after_. He kept getting the feeling that there was more to it than his mind could grasp.

But he didn't worry about it too much; his focus was on Rey. And it seemed that the lack of time was a blessing, because reaching her was no longer instantaneous. It wasn't that he couldn't reach the bond; it was that pulling on it had absolutely no result at first. Ben bit back panic, thought back to his early lessons in patience as a Jedi apprentice, and kept trying.

When it finally did work, he was drawn swiftly through the same sensory null before finding himself somewhere he'd almost been - a stone hut, a damp chilly island. And as before, he was within Rey...and seeing himself.

Part of her, the part that had grieved so in the last dream, knew that what she was dreaming wasn't real. But most of Rey's sleeping mind was caught up in a fragile, strained joy, leading her dream-figure of Kylo Ren around and showing him everything from rocks to sea to odd little birds, in a night that was also day.

Almost as if it were a vid recording, Ben could see what she had dreamed before he'd broken in - the memory of that moment when their hands had brushed, skin on skin. Only in her dream, Kylo had taken her silent invitation, and she had pulled him through to her.

Ben didn't think _that_ would have been actually possible, but it _was_ a dream, after all. They walked past scolding ascetics and strange mournful cliff-beasts; a weed-bedecked X-wing sat on the beach below, but there was no sign of its pilot; the path to a ruined temple disappeared as they tried to climb it.

And underneath it all Ben could feel Rey's frustration, that her dream was wasting time on a _tour_ when she could be holding him instead. But she had no control over it, and neither did Ben; all he could do was observe.

And grieve with her.

It was almost worse than being separated, this inability to touch or comfort; to feel her pain and sorrow was a torment when he couldn't ease it -

The dream came apart. Ben opened his eyes to light, and sat for a long time, wondering if Rey had woken, if she remembered what she'd dreamt. He didn't think she'd sensed him in her mind, and it made him feel just that much more desolate.

The memory that had started the dream rose in Ben's own mind, more vivid than any memory had the right to be. Looking up to see Rey across from him, her face fire-lit by flames he couldn't perceive; the conflict between them in abeyance for once as words spilled from her and anguish marked her features.

She'd offered him her hand. _She'd_ done it first, trembling and brave; always, always seeing through his mask. Offering him everything he didn't deserve. The touch of her fingers had been electric, a brief deepening of their bond, a door he'd thought barred forever starting to open…

Until.

The pang of bitter anger wasn't the dangerous fury Ben would have felt when he was alive, but it was still a dissonant note in this harmonious place. Ben tried to throttle it back, but it burned acid under his breastbone. _If he hadn't interfered - would I have turned back then? _Could things have been different, could he have come to Rey in peace instead of through a battle that had cost them both so badly?

Something - _someone_ \- brushed across Ben's senses, and he looked up. The light in front of him stirred, folded in on itself, and became his uncle, and Ben was scarcely surprised this time.

"That's another thing I have to apologize for," Luke said quietly. "You're right to feel angry."

_That_ Ben had not expected, and anger was diluted by disbelief and a sneaking hint of relief. He blinked at Luke, so tangled that all that came out was "Are you eavesdropping on me?"

Luke turned up a hand, looking slightly abashed. "Not exactly. But one senses things here, after a while. And that definitely had my name attached."

He dropped down to sit crosslegged, facing Ben. "I _am_ sorry," he continued. "I made another hasty judgment, and I was wrong."

Ben's anger faded somewhat, though the sting lingered. "You were right to be cautious," he said at last. As tempted as Ben had been in that one moment, his intentions otherwise hadn't been exactly benign.

Luke dipped his head in agreement, but didn't give way. "Still. I acted hastily. With my history, you'd think I'd have known better."

Ben regarded him, drawing up his legs and resting his arms on his knees, and...let himself believe it. "Yes."

It didn't lessen Ben's guilt. But it felt good to have Luke acknowledge that he, too, was at fault for something, now when Ben wasn't an absolute mess of pain and shame.

His uncle - teacher - enemy - now simply uncle once more, was quieter here, as if in death he'd found the balance he'd been seeking for so long, and when had Ben learned _that_ insight? He almost envied Luke, but balance had never been his desire. Peace, approval, control...those he had yearned for.

Now he wanted only two things: to undo what he'd done.

And Rey.

_Impossible,_ he reminded himself, ruthlessly ignoring the pain the knowledge brought and trying to focus. Finding himself still in existence after death had taken him aback, but it seemed to be a fact, and Ben wasn't sure what to do with it.

"Why are we here?" he asked abruptly, curious. "What is the purpose of...this?"

"How philosophical of you," Luke said, humor threading his voice. "Do you want the short answer or the long answer?"

Ben carefully kept his lips from twitching. "Surprise me."

Luke shrugged. "The short answer is: I don't know. The long answer is, it has something to do with the Jedi Order's relationship with the Force. I think."

"You don't _know_?" Ben couldn't resist the tease, and Luke rolled his eyes.

"We're here because we need to be," he said. "Until things change, anyway."

Ben's brief surge of amusement faded. "But I'm not a Jedi."

"You're still here." Luke stroked his beard meditatively. "I don't know the reason, but it's not mine to know. You'll discover what it is when you're ready."

"That's not helpful," Ben muttered, but what was the point in arguing? Luke had always been a secretive bastard, and Ben doubted that death had changed him.

None of it mattered, though, in the end. If he wasn't to be punished for what he'd done, it didn't really matter what became of him, but he couldn't stop worrying about Rey. All he'd seen was a couple of her dreams, but she'd been so _sad._ Grieving and in pain.

And he couldn't help concluding that it was his fault.

If he had surrendered during their last fight, or just given her the damn wayfinder...told her gently what the Emperor had told him, instead of forcing Rey to remember...called off the fleet from Snoke's throne room...there were so many moments when he could have done _something_ that wouldn't have left her alone.

_It's too late. You can't change things._

He deserved the pain, but oh, he wished he could take hers.

Ben buried his face in his arms, and didn't notice when Luke vanished.


	6. This Rage of Days

**Discerning readers will recognize the Hestv as having popped in from another universe entirely. Go, read Diane Duane's superlative _Spock's World_. It's so _good_.**

**Edited to add: the Hestv is in _The Wounded Sky_, sheesh. Bad fan, no biscuit. However, read that one too. Mmmmm, _so_ good.**

* * *

The _New Republic_ was the largest ship Rey had seen outside of a Star Destroyer. It just kept getting _bigger_ as the _Falcon_ zeroed in on her assigned landing bay, and the back of Rey's mind couldn't help a running calculation of just how much a wreck of so huge a ship might be worth. She still hadn't got used to not having to scavenge to survive.

Granted, the supplies remaining at the Resistance base would run out eventually, and then she and Finn and Poe and Chewie would have to find some other source of income. Lando had made noises about funding for a Jedi temple, but Rey pushed the consideration to the back of her mind, storing next to the estimates about wiring and scrap. It wasn't why they were here.

A nervous exhale behind her heralded Finn's arrival in the cockpit. "How do I look?" he demanded.

BB-8 whistled admiringly from behind the co-pilot's chair. **_Adequate,_** Chewbacca said with the boredom of a species who found clothing unnecessary. Rey elbowed him gently and turned to look.

Finn was wearing the new clothes Lando had insisted on, dark blue trousers and jacket over a crisp white shirt. The lines were simple, but much more elegant than his previous, somewhat haphazard outfits. Embroidered on the jacket's breast, shimmering slightly, was the symbol of the New Republic.

"Brilliant," Rey told him, grinning. "How's Poe look?"

Finn rolled his eyes. "He's still primping, hasn't come out yet. How about you, when are you going to change?"

"As soon as we're down." Rey swiveled back around to look out the viewport. The _Falcon _was just passing from the black of space to the lights of the enormous hangar bay, and Chewbacca touched a few controls, guiding them down towards their designated spot. "...Why are there so many people there?"

**_An honor guard, _**Chewbacca said. **_And admirers._**

Rey exchanged a glance with Finn, and knew - without the Force - that they were thinking the same thing.

_We are in __**way**__ over our heads._

**_Go,_** Chewie said, jerking his thumb back towards the crew quarters. **_I have this._**

Rey went.

The bundle of cloth Lando had handed her shook out to reveal slim, cream-colored trousers and a close-fitting top, sleeveless and much like her usual clothes; but these were new and unstained, needing no mending. She skinned out of her familiar outfit and pulled them on, then added the last bit - a long wide-sleeved cloak in dusty brown that evoked Jedi robes.

Rey felt the _Falcon_ touch down just as she refastened her belt, and she checked automatically for both sabers, then bent swiftly to her discarded shirt. The little dice found a new home within her new top, and Rey laid a hand on them for an instant before opening the door.

It always hurt, to be reminded. But she didn't ever want to forget.

"Nice," D-O told her as she stepped out into the corridor, and Rey smiled at him.

"Thank you. Are you ready?"

"Ready for d-d-democracy," D-O replied, wheeling along next to her, though he didn't sound convinced.

"You look _fine,_" Finn was saying soothingly as Rey reached the hatch. "Doesn't he look fine, Rey?"

Poe swung around to face her. He was wearing a worried expression, dark trousers similar to Finn's but topped with a loose white shirt, and a dark blue vest, which also bore the embroidered symbol. Rey grinned. "Perfect. You two are practically a set."

"I feel like a cantina dancer," Poe grumbled, tugging at the vest. Rey couldn't see why he was worried; it wasn't that far off from other things she'd seen him wear.

"Come on, Generals. It's time to go." Mustering a confidence she didn't really feel, Rey hit the ramp switch.

As she watched, Finn and Poe exchanged glances, and their nerves disappeared - or were hidden. They started down the ramp together, matching their paces, and Rey's grin widened at the spate of applause that greeted them.

She schooled her face back to solemnity and drew up the cowl of the cloak, draping it over her head. A huge hand on her arm stopped her step forward.

**_Go last,_** Chewbacca said. **_Jedi work best with drama._**

He chuckled at her snort and followed Finn and Poe, the droids rolling along beside him. Rey rolled her eyes, but - _He's right._

So she gave him three long beats to get to the end of the ramp, another for the cheer to die, and strode forward.

The crowd's excitement was smothered by a sudden hush. Rey could feel the eyes on her, awed and respectful - and, some of them, afraid. It sent a pang through her, but she kept her chin up and her posture calm, trying to emulate Leia at her most regal.

_This is ridiculous,_ some part of her said, the part that knew she was scarcely more than an apprentice, but it wasn't Luke's lessons that helped her now. She joined her friends at the bottom of the ramp; Finn looked torn between sternness and laughter, and Poe's eyes gleamed for an instant before he turned to the crowd. "Who talks first? Do I talk first?"

The tension was broken with a ripple of laughter, and a tall Hestv stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Welcome to the _New Republic_, Generals, Master Jedi, respected Pilot. We can escort you to the Council chamber."

Poe opened both hands. "Lead on."

The two ranks of honor guard opened to let them through, then reformed behind them. They were wearing a uniform Rey didn't recognize, but she noticed that they all looked very young, or too old to be soldiers. She had to swallow, because she could guess what had happened to the others, but she didn't let the sorrow show.

The Hestv led them out of the hangar bay and down several corridors so wide that they looked as if they belonged on a planet. They were plushly carpeted, with creamy walls and the occasional abstract mural, and Rey felt more out of place with every step. Judging from the growing stiffness of Finn's spine, he felt the same way, though Poe was unreadable and the droids spun along as if they took in luxury every day.

_It doesn't matter,_ Rey told herself. _What's important is the rebuilding, not where it's discussed._ But it still made her feel small and insignificant, nothing but the scruffy scavenger girl she'd been just a year or two prior.

A shriek of absolute _joy_ jerked Rey out of her reflections, and she looked up in time to see a small figure dash past the startled honor guard to leap into Chewbacca's extended arms. Gone were the baggy coveralls; Rose was wearing something clinging in a blue-green that reminded Rey of the lake on Takodana.

"Jannah!" Finn was saying, laughing out loud, and Poe whooped and grabbed Jannah up in a hug before passing her to Finn. _Her _outfit was a blinding white that set off her familiar headband, and Rey knew that Lando had gotten to her as well.

And then it was hugs all around, and a babble of excited voices, and the honor guard looking a little taken aback as they watched the reunion.

"We were going to wait until the first session was over," Rose explained a bit breathlessly, her arms slung around Poe and Finn's waists. "But then we spotted you going by and…" She shrugged.

"You should come with us," Finn said. "You had just as much to do with the Battle of Exegol as we did."

"Perhaps not _quite_ as much," Jannah said, eyeing Rey thoughtfully. "But...why not?"

So it was a slightly larger group that paused outside the doors of the Council room. "Where's General Calrissian?" Rey asked the Hestv in a low voice.

"I believe he's already inside, respected," their guide replied. "If you will permit?"

The guards at the doors - real ones, to judge by the blasters they wore - waited for her nod before they pulled the doors wide. Rey had one moment to wonder _who put me in charge_ before stepping through.

The voices echoing through the room fell silent. All eyes were on her; some were on stalks. Rey didn't stop, moving forward so the others could follow, and tried to see where Lando was without looking directly at anyone, for fear they could see how nervous she was.

Her ears told her when her friends were beside her; Rey halted, and lowered her cowl.

The silence was filled with a soft rush of sound as the entire Council rose to their feet.

Only a lifetime's training of keeping her mouth shut when necessary saved Rey from gaping at the tribute; and she could hear Rose's gasp and feel Finn's prickle of shock. It took her a long moment to remember to press her hand to her heart in salute. "Councilmembers."

The being at the head of the long table stepped forward, returning the gesture. They were a species Rey didn't recognise, round and blue-skinned and dressed in silvery robes. "Welcome, Master Rey," they said in a voice that sounded like chimes. "Welcome, Generals and heroes of the Resistance...our saviors."

Murmurs rose from the others around the table, which ran the length of the large room. Down one side, a stronger voice spoke up.

"Come and take your seats, gentlefolk," Lando called, and Rey could hear the smile in his voice. "We've been waiting for you."

Rey swallowed, took her courage in both hands, and obeyed.

* * *

By the end of the first day, Finn was _exhausted_.

It was funny, he thought, as their little Resistance party gathered in the big dining hall on the _New Republic_. The day hadn't involved anything more strenuous than the walk from the _Falcon_ to the Council hall. But his head buzzed with names, faces, and agendas, and even BB-8's promise to help him keep track of all the new people he'd met wasn't enough to reassure him.

Now they all huddled together, trying to look brave - Poe and Rey, Jannah and Rose; only Lando and Chewbacca looked at ease, and Finn suspected that Chewie just didn't care that much about what people thought.

They'd all claimed a table; Finn had just made his first pass at the buffet, dazzled by the variety of food available, and judging by the way Rey was staring at her heaped plate, he wasn't the only one.

"It's wasteful," Jannah said, picking at her own choices. "How much of this will just go into the disposer afterwards?"

Lando shrugged easily. "It's all part of the show."

Poe didn't say anything; his mouth was full.

"A ship this size has recyclers," Rose pointed out, nibbling at a fruit Finn had never seen before. "I agree it's a waste, but it won't just get thrown away."

Finn glanced at Chewbacca, but he was working his way through a pile of something purple and didn't comment.

Rey muttered something indistinguishable, then swallowed her bite. "Are we pulling it off?"

Lando laughed. "You're doing fine. Most of these people learned on the job, you know. You'll pick it up as you go."

"Yeah, but how many of them started at the top?" Finn asked, then tried not to moan at his first taste of the cake he'd chosen. Food in the First Order had been more basic than palatable, and the Resistance rations had tended towards whatever they could scrape together; _this_ was something else.

"In a way, that makes it easier." Lando stirred his soup idly. "You have the ears and eyes of the galaxy. You can say what needs to be heard."

Finn wasn't sure that the galaxy needed to hear _his_ opinion about anything, but - _It's only the first day._ He tried to do justice to the food he'd chosen, and listened to the others discuss what they'd learned.

And watched Poe out of the corner of his eye.

In the whirlwind of preparing for departure, he and Rey had never finished their discussion. Poe hadn't been _avoiding_ him any longer, exactly, but somehow Poe was always too busy to have a real conversation, and he wouldn't meet Finn's gaze.

_You're wrong,_ Finn thought at him. _You're still wrong_.

It _hurt_, this weird separation between them. Ever since they'd met, Finn had felt he could lean on Poe, and despite a few arguments along the way, that feeling had never faded.

_I want my friend back._ Something in Finn grumbled, dissatisfied with the thought, but it was still true. He considered himself wealthy beyond any dream he might have had in the First Order - he had freedom, he had friends, and he had the honor of having taken down Captain Phasma - and Finn counted all of those things precious. He didn't intend to lose any of them.

But he didn't know how to fix things. _I still need to talk to Rey. _

He bided his time as they ate, and watched Poe and Chewie leave with a frown. "Can we talk?" he asked Rey in an undertone as she scraped the last of some pink sauce from her plate.

"Oh - yes. We sort of got interrupted, didn't we?" She laid down her utensil and regarded him. "Why don't we go back to the _Falcon_?"

"Sounds good." Finn almost felt as if he should be offering her a hand up as they rose, though he couldn't say why, exactly. She looked as fierce and capable as ever, with the edge of authority that her new clothes provided.

They picked up a droid escort just outside the dining hall, and Finn suspected that BB-8 had been lying in wait for them. "Have you seen Artoo or Threepio yet?" he asked.

BB-8 informed him that both of them were on board but undergoing some cosmetic maintenance, since C-3PO apparently wanted to look his best for his upcoming duties. Finn was impressed by how well the droid managed to convey sarcasm.

"What, no oil bath for you?" Rey asked, amused, and BB-8 squeaked something very rude. Finn snickered.

The hangar bay where the _Falcon_ was berthed had a wonderful view of the local stars, and Finn and Rey ended up in the cockpit just to take advantage of it. "What's on your mind?" Rey asked softly as they settled in.

Finn blew out a breath. "It's Poe," he said after a minute. "He says we can't be friends any more if I keep training as a Jedi. That he's too _ordinary_."

Rey snorted, and said something in Crolute that made BB-8's comment sound like high courtesy. Finn had to grin a little. "I know. But...that's why I was asking what we're doing. We had plans, you know, and I..." He shrugged.

"That makes sense." Rey tilted back in the pilot's chair, putting her feet carefully on the panel in front of her. "Finn, what I said before is true. I'm happy to train you, but you have to do what _you_ want."

"But...you'll need help." Finn bit his lip. "You can't do it all on your own."

Rey gave him an amused look. "I can train other apprentices. In theory."

He fidgeted for a moment, trying to phrase what he wanted to say. "The texts...they talk about how a Jedi isn't supposed to get attached. That if you do, you aren't a Jedi any longer."

She made a scoffing noise. "Master Luke never mentioned that, and neither did Master Leia. Look, Finn, if I'm the last Jedi, then I get to choose which rules we follow, and if the Jedi of the past don't like it, they can go fish for starfin."

Rey stared down at her closed fist, and opened it slowly. The little dice that had once hung in the cockpit sat in her palm. "As far as I can tell, the rule about cutting people off from their attachments only led to trouble. So...we won't keep it."

Her expression was still, but Finn sensed a deep wave of grief flowing out of her, and it made his breath catch. Nonetheless, he knew when to keep his mouth shut.

"Okay then," he said instead. "What about training here, though? I mean, I'd like to at least until I figure out what I'm doing."

Rey's expression lightened. "I'm sure we can find someplace they're not using."

* * *

_Rebuilding._

It was strange, to watch the business of politics supplant the business of war. Rey had lost count of the sessions she'd attended, and had more committees asking for her presence than she had time to give; but they were all in the same situation.

"It's not that I'm not flattered," Rose said as she and Rey left the massive dining hall. "But I'm a _mechanic_. What do I know about parliamentary voting systems?"

Rey shrugged, pocketing the fruit she'd lifted from the buffet; the sight of so much food never failed to make her a little dizzy, and it made her feel better to have some stashed.

Just in case.

"What do I know about any of this? I was a scavenger. I'd be more useful stripping this thing for parts than sitting in on the latest discussion of trade routes." She fastened her pocket closed.

"Right there with you." Rose popped a last sweet into her mouth, sighing a little. "But Lando's right. They do need our perspective."

She grinned. "And you can't beat the accommodations."

Rey smiled back, but she couldn't quite mean it. Rose swore under her breath. "I'm about to be late for another meeting - see you at dinner?"

At Rey's nod she dashed off, vanishing down a side corridor. Rey watched her disappear, then kept walking. She had nothing scheduled that afternoon, for a change, and having so little physical work to do made her restless. Sometimes it felt like she'd paced off a lightyear's worth of distance up and down the wide halls of the ship.

They had all been assigned quarters, of course, but Rey found the plush suite she'd been assigned more oppressive than comfortable. _It's strange; I dreamed of comfort when I lived in an old AT-AT, but...it's too __**much**__. _

She hadn't yet given into the temptation to join Chewie on board the _Falcon_ \- he'd refused the rooms with brusque Wookiee courtesy that forbore asking why - but Rey did wonder every night, curled up in an overlarge bed, whether she wouldn't be more comfortable in the cramped cot behind the galley.

It was interesting, though, to watch the many, many beings who came and went on the _New Republic_. People of more species than Rey had known existed, droid models she'd never heard of, languages familiar and totally strange - it was _fascinating._ Rey had never seen so many people at once before; Niima Outpost was not known for its large population, and while the Resistance had been a mixed group, they had never been all in the same place at the same time, barring the disaster of Crait.

And people _recognised_ her. Rey knew it was the cloak, mostly, which she wore more because the ship was constantly chilly than because she wanted to be known. But eyes went wide when they saw her; crests rose, lights flashed, breath whistled or hissed or gasped.

She never felt easy with it, the whispers or the bows or the salutes. But she returned grave nods, because she was a Jedi now, and that demanded dignity.

What Rey hated was the fear in some of the faces - not so many in the halls, but more than a few at the big council table. It was hidden there, under smooth manners and polite words, but she could sense it all the same, and it made her feel colder than even the ship's air.

She understood it. Rey had walked into the hands of the Sith, and survived, and the Sith had not. To the career diplomats, who had stayed far from war, she was now a threat.

It would have made her laugh, except she supposed she really _was_ one. She could control the Force - and there was no one left who could counter her.

_No one left…_

The buzzing voices in the ship's wide corridor were abruptly too much. Rey dodged two Jawas and a passing ambassadorial party and ducked down a service corridor, checking the access panels until she found one that led into the maintenance ducts. She didn't need the Force to do it; she'd spent her childhood exploring old wrecks for just such entrances.

She offered a strained smile to the serving droid who was rolling past, and cracked open the panel to slip inside.

The duct was wide, befitting such a large ship, dim with only the service lights on. The only droids she might encounter here would be simple-minded maintenance rollers, who might report the intrusion to Security but wouldn't try to _talk_ to her.

_The hero of Exegol, the last of the Jedi, reduced to hiding in the pipes. _It was amusing, but she couldn't muster a smile. Rey folded herself up and buried her head in her arms. _**Ben**__. _

_He was never a Jedi,_ she reminded herself, again. _ He's not coming. _

She did not cry.

The burn at the bottom of her soul flared up, gnawing at her. If it weren't such a temptation, Rey thought, she could deal with it more easily. Pain she could handle; no scavenger made it through life without scrapes, cuts, burns, breaks.

It was the _promise_ that made it so seductive.

Let go, and see him again.

_Maybe if we'd had more time._ When she tallied up how long they'd been united, truly of one will, it was less than five minutes. _Not counting the part where I was dead_.

To have the merest taste of what could be, then to have it ripped away…

It would have been easier if Ben had never turned. Rey might have regretted, then, but she wouldn't have _known_.

_But that would have been worse. Easier, but worse. _

It was strange. Rey stared into the shadows of the duct, seeing nothing. If she'd never met Leia or Luke, if she'd just been an orphan girl from a poor planet on the backside of the galaxy when she and Kylo Ren had met, would she have taken his hand? She thought not, but Luke had instilled enough of the Jedi self-reflection routines in her for Rey to know she couldn't be sure.

_On the other hand,_ she thought dryly, _even if I had he wouldn't have had it all his own way_.

Sand and rock, what would she give just to be able to _argue_ with him again?

Rey put her head down on her knees again, rocking a little, throat and chest a mass of pain that had no easing. It was only the sound of tiny wheels that made her look up once more.

It was just a little vacuum droid passing by, sucking up whatever dust might have gathered; it didn't even seem to notice her. Rey watched it go, shaken from her musings by one question.

_Why does it have a knife taped to its chassis?_

* * *

The third time he tried to reach her -

Darkness turned to fuzzy gray, and then voices spoke in the distance, smeared to nonsense by echoes. Ben followed them, heard them roll towards him, come clear.

"I don't like it." The traitor's voice - what did Rey call him? Finn. _You have no right to call anyone traitor._ "She just - fell over."

A calmer voice, an older one, weary and sad. **_It's not unexpected. _**

"She keeps saying nothing's wrong, but _look _at her. Chewie, we _have_ to make her rest!"

The gray did not focus or lighten, but Ben didn't care, as long as he could listen. He seemed to have limbs, at least, but they were leaden and unmovable.

**_If you think you can do that, you're welcome to,_** Chewbacca replied. **_But the only thing more stubborn than a Solo is a Jedi._**

The sound of his voice gave Ben's heart a little lift - it was good to know that Chewie was alive - but he was far more concerned about the rest of the conversation. _They must be talking about Rey. Where is she?_

A spasm of pain shot through his head, startling him so badly that Ben lost his concentration. Opening his eyes, he found himself back where he'd started, alone in the light.

He raised a hand to his head, but the pain had dissipated. _Of course. It was __**hers**__. _

He'd been in Rey's body. Or at least sensing it. And from what he could tell by what he'd heard, she hadn't been conscious.

And she was _definitely _not okay.

Ben set his jaw, and drew the spark back into himself with exquisite care. And then he stood, and went looking for Luke.

He didn't find Luke. What found him was another figure coalescing out of the light - taller, broader, one who carried shadows within him much like Ben's. His face was a stranger...but Ben knew him instantly.

He swallowed. "Grandfather."

"Ben." The man in brilliant Jedi robes quirked a small smile, rueful and sympathetic. He didn't look young at all; more like a middle-aged man in the prime of life. Ben had seen one or two holos of a young Anakin Skywalker, but the resemblance was faint. "It's good to meet you at last."

Ben felt his shoulders rising towards his ears, a childhood reflex he'd eradicated long ago. "Uh. Should...should I apologize to you too?"

It was sheer embarrassment. He'd idolized this man for so long - no, idolized the monster Anakin had become - and now that Ben had acknowledged how wrong he'd been, the entire thing seemed stupid and childish. And _insulting_.

Anakin shook his head, still smiling. "No, no. You were set up for it from the very beginning. And while I admit your keeping my head in a box was a little disturbing - "

Ben winced.

" - Being on this side of things does give one a wider point of view." He sighed, rubbing the fingers of one hand together, and Ben remembered that Anakin had lost more than just one limb.

The embarrassment ebbed slightly, and was overturned by a sudden rush of anger. "Why didn't you _stop_ me? If you had come - if _you _had come…"

Ben trailed off, taken by the bitter vision. If Anakin had _appeared_ to him, spoken to him out loud - would he have turned back?

"Would you have listened?" Anakin's expression was sympathetic, but his voice was firm. "And in any case, we don't interfere in people's lives, even those we love. You have to make your own choices."

The argument was specious, Ben knew it, but his anger collapsed all the same, because Anakin had the right of it. He _wouldn't_ have listened, too convinced he had burned all his bridges to accept a new one built in front of him. "Sorry," he muttered, and rubbed his nose.

"I wish I could have," Anakin added. "But you did very well at the end, and I'm proud of you."

The words took him in the gut like a blaster bolt. _Proud - _

"You know what I've done," Ben croaked through a tight throat. "How can you be - " He couldn't even say the word.

Anakin regarded him steadily. "Because I know exactly how hard it was."

His ears were ringing. Ben ground the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to steady himself. He'd tried so long to be this man's monster that the praise seemed impossible, absurd. And he definitely didn't deserve it.

"It's not absolution, mind you," Anakin continued gently. "You'll carry that guilt with you just as I do. Atonement can be a fine tool for learning, I've found."

Ben dropped his hands, blinking away the sparkles. All this compassion heaped on him felt like deserving a beating and getting handed gifts instead, and he began to see what Luke had been telling him - that he wanted to work to be worthy of it, even if it was an impossible goal.

_I've had plenty of impossible goals. This is just one more._

"That's reassuring. In a strange way."

"It's meant to be." Anakin gave him a one-sided smile. "Death isn't the end of things, grandson. It's just the next step."

"I haven't…" Ben blinked again, trying to focus. "I haven't really had time to think about it."

Anakin chuckled. "And you were doing something when I interrupted you. I'll let you get back to it," he said, and vanished as neatly as Luke had.

Ben, who had started to reply, found himself looking at nothing with a certain exasperation. The disappearing trick was nifty, but -

He started walking again, then stopped. Looking for Luke this way hadn't produced the man, and Ben realized he was deathly afraid of who he might run into next.

"Uncle Luke." It felt extremely awkward to just stand there and say it, but Ben didn't know what else to do. "Can we…"

"Talk?" said someone behind him, and Ben whirled, striking out automatically.

"Whoa!" The blow went right through Luke's torso as if he weren't there at all, and he held up both hands, wide and open. "Sorry, Ben. I forgot how some things take a while to fade."

Ben unclenched his teeth and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself. Training with Snoke had meant that sounds behind one were _never_ a good thing. "You always had a vile sense of humor."

"I still do," Luke said cheerfully, and Ben snorted.

"Rey isn't well," he said without preamble. "I...felt her…" He didn't know how to describe what he'd done, but Luke didn't ask for an explanation. "She's weakening. She's having fainting spells. I don't know what's going on, but she needs help."

Luke's smile faded. "Ben, I already told you. We can't help her until she asks for it."

Ben opened his mouth, then closed it. Part of him, the angry, frightened, imperious part with the very bad temper, was screaming for a weapon. The rest of him knew that it wouldn't help any.

He blew out a breath. Looking at Luke, he could tell without words that arguing was going to be useless. The Jedi had agreed; the Jedi would keep their word. "I had no idea that being dead would be this _frustrating_."

Luke smirked. "It's an experience." He sobered. "Believe me, we are _all _worried about Rey. But we can't violate her trust."

He stopped there, but the comparison was obvious, and Ben tried not to flinch. _Because that's what the Sith did. _Power and control; the only choice that mattered to them was the choice that corrupted.

"I get it." Ben bit his lip, then nodded. If the Jedi couldn't help her, there was still the avenue he'd found.

Luke nodded back. "We'll wait. We're all waiting."

Ben wasn't a Jedi. He would try again.

_For as long as it takes._


	7. Gathering Flowers and Remembering Fire

**Last chapter of angst, folks. Happier times coming.**

**(This one is for Cincoflex, who did a last-minute beta for me. Characterization, what's that?)**

* * *

Rey was stretched out on the thick carpet of her suite when the door chime sounded, and it took her a moment to summon the energy to roll to her feet. The contained air of the _New Republic_, scrubbed and filtered as it was, sometimes felt too close; Rey had never spent so much time _enclosed_ before, and it made her tired.

She trudged to the door, expecting Finn or Rose or Poe, or possibly C-3PO, but the person waiting on the other side was Jannah, looking extremely uncertain.

"Oh! Hello," Rey said, blinking. She didn't know Jannah as well as Finn and Poe did, and neither of them had really had time to learn more about each other. "Come in."

"Thanks." Jannah stepped inside, stopping uncertainly until Rey waved at the little reception area and its various seating options.

"Come and sit - do you want something to drink?"

"Just water?" Jannah chose a low chair, flipping her long tunic out of the way as she sat.

Rey went to the elaborate bar on the far side of the room and got them both glasses. She knew perfectly well that Jannah had everything she needed at her fingertips the same as Rey did, but she'd picked up at least this social grace since they'd come on board. The sheer number of unspoken rules was dizzying, but the mantle of _Jedi_ did excuse some of Rey's...eccentricity.

She was unabashedly grateful for it.

Jannah took the glass with a murmur of thanks and they both drank; Rey sat opposite her and took in the tense set of Jannah's shoulders. "Are you all right?"

Jannah let out a short laugh. "Yes...and no. I don't know why I'm so nervous." She drained her glass and set it aside. "Finn's been nagging me to come see you for days."

"Because you're Force-sensitive." Rey snickered at Jannah's startled look. "Yes, I can sense it, but Finn told me weeks ago."

Jannah rolled her eyes. "Of course he did."

Rey sat back, leaning on the arm of her chair and idly turning her drink in her hand. "Do you want to learn to use it?" she asked. _I barely know what to do with one student - but if she wants to learn then she deserves a teacher._

"I...don't really know," Jannah said slowly. "I scarcely know anything about the Jedi to begin with. Just old myths."

"It's not mandatory, you know," Rey said gently. "I'm not going to force anyone."

The corners of Jannah's mouth turned up. "I didn't think you were. I've seen a little of what you're teaching Finn, but I'm sure there's more to it."

Rey nodded, and stood. "I'll be right back."

She kept the sacred texts on the _Falcon_ for the most part - she'd had to leave far too many places on the run lately and didn't want to lose them - but she usually kept one in her quarters for study, and fortunately the one she had just then was one of the early volumes on philosophy.

She brought it out of the bedroom and handed it to Jannah. "This covers some of the basics, though honestly? I'm pretty much figuring things out as I go."

Jannah laughed. "Right there with you."

Rey took her seat again, curling her legs under her. "You should know, you don't have to become an apprentice to receive training, either." She bit her lip. "May I sense you?"

Jannah's eyes widened, but she nodded, and Rey lidded her own eyes and reached out with her mind.

She'd felt Jannah's gift before, but only in passing, and probing like this was rude without asking permission first. Rey brushed gently past Jannah's nervousness and curiosity, looking for the core of power within the ex-Stormtrooper, and found it burning like a coal. It was not as strong as Finn's bright blaze, and nowhere near the wildfire that Luke had sensed in Rey herself, but it was steady, and Rey suspected that even untrained it had served Jannah well in combat and her harsh life on Kef Bir.

Rey opened her eyes and nodded. "If you want to become a Jedi, I will teach you," she told Jannah. "If you just want to learn how to control your gift, I can teach you to do that."

"That was...odd," Jannah said, touching her forehead. "What did you see?"

_Seeing_ wasn't quite the word, but Rey didn't correct her. "The Force in you. You felt it?"

"It...it was like something in me reached out to you." Jannah bit her lip.

Rey nodded again, grinning a little. "You don't have to make up your mind now," she said gently. "Take the time to think about it."

"In between meetings, yeah," Jannah said, and they both laughed. Jannah sighed.

"I do need to think about it. I didn't have...choices, not really, not until recently. I mean, yes, we deserted from the First Order, but after that it was mostly about survival, you know?"

Rey knew exactly. "Choices come after you have food in your belly and someplace safe to sleep."

_"Yes."_ Jannah pointed at her. "We had a pretty stable thing going on Kef Bir after a while, but still. This - " She waved a hand at the ship around them. " - it's overwhelming."

"Lando keeps saying it will settle down." Rey made a face. "I'm not sure I believe him."

"He's a smooth talker." Jannah shrugged. "It gets the job done..."

Jannah was easy to talk with, Rey found as they chatted; she had a sharp mind and a dry wit, and they traded stories of survival for a while, desert versus seashore. It was late before Jannah left, with a promise to come back the next time they had space in their schedules. Rey smiled as she closed the door and returned to her spot on the carpet. She had had no friends of her own age, growing up, and few at all; and now, she realised, she had a wealth of them.

A strange feeling, but a good one.

Rey sighed, and stared up at the ceiling. It wasn't that she didn't like the furniture in her suite well enough, but she just wasn't used to stretching out on _softness_. She'd finally made a nest of blankets on the bedroom floor and slept there in more comfort than she'd had, ever.

_Maybe that's the problem. Maybe it's too much softness._

She knew it wasn't. But suddenly passing out while on her way to breakfast had been alarming, to say the least, not to mention waking with a vile headache, and that was only the most obvious sign. Chewbacca and Finn had fussed over her for more than an hour, and Rey hadn't dared tell them that it wasn't the first time she'd fainted - just the first time in public.

There was something wrong with her, something that went beyond the aftermath of battle and loss, and Rey had the nasty feeling that she knew what it was.

_I guess it's time._

She pushed up to a sitting position and closed her eyes, composing herself. The last time she'd tried this, she'd gotten _all_ the Jedi, which would have been overwhelming if she hadn't been, well, dying. Now Rey opened herself to the Force with some trepidation, hoping for something a little...less.

_Be with me. _

_ Be with me. _

_ Be with me...just not all at once... _

"Rey."

The voice was so warm, and so familiar, that tears leaked from beneath her lids before she even got them open. "Master Leia."

The familiar figure was kneeling opposite Rey, clothed in unfamiliar white, regarding her with that understanding smile that had fed some eternally hungry part of Rey. "It's about time," Leia added tartly, but the smile took the sting away.

Rey tried to smile back, but her lips trembled. "I'm...I'm sorry. I..."

Leia shook her head. "There's nothing to be sorry for. You've been very busy."

Rey stared at Leia's translucent form. "I...wish you were still here," she said wistfully, though she hadn't meant to bring up the topic. "You understand this kind of thing."

Leia lifted a hand. "I was brought up to it, yes. But you're doing fine. All of you are. Lando's a good teacher; you can trust him." She regarded Rey kindly. "But that's not what you want to ask me."

It was reassuring, on some deep, sad level, to know that death hadn't changed Leia. "I...what's happening to me?"

Leia pressed her lips together for a long moment. "I think you already know."

"The dyad bond." Rey swallowed. "It's not healing."

Leia nodded. "This is very rare," she said. "Something that transcends the wall between life and death. Rey, nothing to do with the Force happens without a reason. I can't tell you why this is happening to you, but I can tell you: persevere."

Annoyance made Rey frown a little. "You can't tell me because I'm not supposed to know?"

Leia smirked, but her eyes were still kind. "I can't tell you because I don't know. I'm not trying to be mysterious, but death doesn't give all the answers."

Rey glanced away, the surge of irritation ebbing. "The texts say..."

"Forget the texts." Leia leaned forward. "You already know that what is written is not as strong as what _is_. You have strength, Rey. You can use it."

Rey squeezed her eyes closed. "I'm so tired," she whispered, and felt the phantom pressure of a hand on her shoulder.

"You're allowed to ask for help, Rey. No one is asking you to take all this on alone."

When she opened them again, Leia hadn't moved, but the sensation lingered. "I don't know what to ask for," she admitted.

Leia's look was kind. "When you do, we'll be here."

Rey nodded, then bit her lip. "Have you - " Her throat closed on the words, misery damming up behind the knot, but Leia seemed to understand all the same.

"He's safe," she said quietly. "He's well. If I could tell you more I would."

Rey managed to get a breath in, and nodded again. It wasn't enough, it could never be _enough_, but just knowing that Ben still _was_ \- "Thank you."

"No. Thank _you,_" Leia said firmly. "You did what none of the rest of us could."

She leaned forward, face lit with serene joy. "You brought him _home_."

* * *

It took Finn _days_ to corner Poe.

It wasn't, he thought, that Poe was avoiding him, or at least mostly. It was that they were both so _busy._ They were _all_ busy, Rey and Rose, Jannah and Chewbacca too - even BB-8 was grumbling about too much to do, and Threepio was in constant demand for translation work.

Finn found himself more than a little boggled by it all, and the only comfort he had was that all the rest of them were pretty much in the same ship - except maybe for Chewie. Everyone kept saying that things would calm down soon, when the business of government was back online, but Finn admitted to himself, privately, that he wasn't sure what _easier_ meant in this context.

_I was a __**janitor**__, _he'd complained to Chewie, who had snorted.

_**Then you should speak for the janitors, and the servers, and all the others that the high forget**, _Chewie had replied, and oddly enough it had helped.

But Finn couldn't stop thinking about their old plan. True, most of the First Order's officers had died at Exegol, but there were still thousands of Stormtrooper squads scattered through the galaxy, and even those who had given up their allegiance were unprepared for a life that didn't involve the discipline of the First Order.

_Jannah wants to help with that too. Though if she goes in for Jedi training -_ He sighed, and looked down at D-O, who was valiantly keeping up with Finn's fast stride. "Are you _sure_ Poe's in his quarters? The last time we tried this he was at the hyperlane regulation committee meeting."

"Sch-schedule change," D-O said apologetically. "Everything is fluid."

"Yeah, no kidding." Finn grimaced. The back of his mind kept saying _this isn't what I signed up for_, except he kind of _had_. Poe was adjusting better than the rest of them, his natural charm easing his way among the practiced negotiators; it made him harder to catch, because he was always in demand.

As they rounded the last corner Finn could see Poe standing outside his quarters, speaking with the representative from the United Planets of Teal. Finn frowned.

Poe was flirting with the man, standing _way_ too close to the ambassador, grinning up at him. Finn's mood instantly went sour. Poe flirted with just about everybody, Finn understood that, it was how he was made, but he really shouldn't be doing it in a _professional_ capacity.

Poe's gaze shifted and he spotted Finn; he straightened, though his grin didn't abate. He held out a hand to the ambassador, and Finn was close enough to hear him. "We can pick this up again later, if you like..."

The man laughed and took his leave, nodding courteously to Finn as they passed each other. Finn nodded back, keeping his face blank, and glanced down. "Thanks, D-O, but I'm going to let you go. We need to have a private conversation."

D-O didn't have much capacity for expression, but the cock of the droid's head still conveyed skepticism. "You t-t-talk too much," D-O told him, and scooted away. Finn squinted after him, not sure whether he'd meant Finn in particular or people in general, then gave it up.

Poe was leaning against his doorframe, arms crossed. "What brings you to my humble abode?" he asked, giving Finn his easy smirk.

Finn rolled his eyes. "I _am_ quartered right next door," he pointed out. "But yeah, we need to talk."

He stepped past Poe, snagging his arm and pulling him into Poe's quarters before Poe could do more than open his mouth.

"What's kinking _your_ jets?" Poe asked, sounding more surprised than upset, and Finn spun to look at him.

He'd grown used to the way Poe put on a - _performance _wasn't quite the right word - the way he could use smooth charm to handle the business they were on board to do, never hinting at the sweat and tears and terrors of fighting enemy ships or running from blaster bolts or trying to fix a ninety-year-old freighter with thirty-year-old parts.

The fact that Finn was seeing that public face now - that hurt.

"You shouldn't be flirting with these people," Finn said abruptly, _knowing_ it was the wrong thing to say but not quite managing to catch the words in time.

Poe's brows went up, and he let out a sharp laugh. "Really? _That's_ what you're here about?"

"No, it's not, but it's still true," Finn snapped, irritation prickling through him. "We're supposed to be _neutral_."

Poe scoffed. "Nobody here is neutral, Finn, we all have our own agendas." He ran a hand through his hair. "I just want to get the job done."

Finn glared at him. "That's _not_ the way to do it."

"Would you rather I flirted with you?" Poe said sarcastically. "I mean, I could _do_ that - "

Finn gaped at him for precisely three seconds, then sat down in the nearest chair and dropped his face into his hands. _Shit_.

_I would._

"Finn?" Poe sounded uncertain, and Finn waved a hand at him before putting it back over his eyes and trying to sort through his spinning thoughts.

It was like pulling off his old helmet and getting back his peripheral vision - everything was suddenly so much _bigger._ All the recent friction in their friendship, the way Poe would just _look_ at him sometimes, Poe getting annoyed when Finn wouldn't tell him things, how it felt to hug Poe and just not want to let go -

\- The look on Poe's face, back at the base, when he'd told Finn that there was no room in a Jedi's life for _ordinary people_.

_"...It hurts."_

"Finn? Buddy?"

A hand on his knee made Finn part his fingers enough to look out. Poe was crouched in front of him, all the shiny shell gone; he just looked worried. "What's the matter?"

Finn wondered vaguely if he was supposed to be afraid, but all he felt was exhilaration, and a strong sense that this was _right._ He took his hands from his face and cupped them around Poe's instead. "Yes. _Please_."

Poe blinked once, twice, and then his eyes flared with some emotion that Finn immediately lost track of, because Poe was kissing him.

Finn hadn't kissed a lot of people in his life. Relationships were forbidden to Stormtroopers, and while of course it still happened, most of those were short-lived, sometimes tragically. Sex was allowed, but only as long as nobody got attached. So kissing wasn't really high on anyone's list of skills.

Poe, Finn was noticing, didn't seem to mind any; but even that thought was having trouble making it through the haze of joy that was currently fogging his brain. Everything was clicking into place, circuits lighting up, and when Poe pulled back Finn couldn't stop a tiny noise of protest.

"You mean that?" Poe asked, voice oddly uncertain. "You mean _this_, Finn, because I - "

"Yeah," Finn said, unable to look away from the light in Poe's face, the way his mouth was curving up. He slid his hands to Poe's shoulders, trying to tug him closer. "This Jedi will hang around with anybody he wants to."

Poe laughed, half elation and half incredulity, and his hands on Finn's hips yanked, and then they were both kneeling on the ridiculously plush carpet and Finn was wrapped up in one of Poe's excellent hugs.

"I thought I was going to lose you, after everything," Poe mumbled, and Finn grinned against his shoulder.

"Can't get rid of me, Dameron. Not that easily."

"Good," Poe said, and kissed him again, and Finn decided that talking could wait until later.

_He's getting pretty good at this._

The makeshift training ground that Rey had set up in one of the _New Republic's _unused hangar bays included a space large enough for sparring, but today was for practicing forms. Rey moved smoothly from position to position and Finn matched her almost perfectly, their training staffs sweeping in unison as they stepped and turned.

It was a form of meditation, and a way of connecting with the Force. Finn was actually better at more formal meditation than Rey, despite his usual energy; she liked this better - movement always suited her more than stillness.

_I still don't know what I'm doing._ The thought was less panicked than usual. Finn was a good student, eager to learn but able to be patient, and Rey knew that no one understood better how uncertain she was about teaching anyone. _And he's been conditioned to obey._

Which wasn't a pleasant thought, but Finn was _also_ capable of asking questions. Rey taught him everything she could remember, because people died and texts decayed, and the only sure way to preserve knowledge was to pass it from mind to living mind.

Rey led him into a series of attacks - Finn had an instinct for defensive moves but he was weaker on offensive ones - and felt the Force moving with them, a harmony that was almost a dance. Not until they finished the closing forms and came to rest did the connection ebb.

Finn's face was as sweat-sheened as Rey's own, and his eyes were wide. "Was that - "

She grinned at him. "Yeah. You're doing well, Jedi."

And felt her heart lift when he beamed.

They broke for lunch when Poe and the droids brought it in. Finn bolted his share and forced an energy drink into Rey's hand, while Poe folded his arms and glared at her until she took another bite of whatever she was eating. They weren't even pretending to be subtle any longer.

It annoyed Rey, because lack of food wasn't the problem, and neither was getting enough rest. Rose lectured her almost every day, while Chewbacca said nothing out loud, just watched Rey with silent gravity.

Rey knew her ribs were showing, that her wrists were too bony and that her cheekbones were starting to make her look like the dark dream of the Sith she'd encountered on Kef Bir. It had nothing to do with how much she ate - in fact, she was eating more than she ever had in her life. It was just -

_I've lost too much._

The bouts of unconsciousness had climbed to five, and the only reason Finn had agreed to train today was because Rey had agreed that they wouldn't spar.

"Enough, Poe," she told him at last, shoving away the fruit he was trying to hand her. "If I eat any more it'll just come right back up."

He scowled. "You'll eat extra at dinner, then. Promise me."

Rey punched his arm lightly. "I'll do my best."

"Now go away," Finn added. "We have more super-secret Jedi stuff to do."

But when Poe had kissed him and gone off Finn folded his arms. "We're not doing anything else until you tell me what's going on with you. Master," he added pointedly.

Rey thought about dissembling, but the set of his jaw told her it wouldn't work. "All right. Come on. BB-8, D-O, out," she added, arching a brow at the trill of argument. "This is Jedi business."

D-O didn't complain, but BB-8 rolled off in a huff, burbling rudely. Finn squinted after him. "'Protein chauvinist'? Am I hearing that right?"

Rey rolled her eyes. _"Your progenitor was a trash compactor,"_ she whistled back, prompting a short scream. Finn choked on his laugh, and they waited as the droids made their way out.

Rey made sure that the airlock had closed behind the droids before forcing out the words, reluctant to admit them out loud. "It's the broken bond," she said at last. "I thought Ben's gift would be enough to keep me going, but I think it's only slowed things down."

Finn went gray, a color she hadn't seen on him since Kylo Ren had wounded him so badly. _"Rey."_

She pinched her eyes shut, but no tears welled up. "It's not what I want," she admitted softly. "But I miss him, I miss him so _much_, Finn. I know you can't understand but it never stops hurting - "

Strong arms came around her in a hard hug. "You're right," Finn said. "There's no way I can understand why you miss that monster. But I don't have to."

Rey could feel him shaking, and returned the hug. "I can feel it," he added in a low voice. "You're...it's like you're bleeding out, really slowly. Only it's not blood, it's your life."

Rey rested her head on his shoulder. The hug felt so good; it didn't ease the gnawing, but it comforted. "The...the Emperor, he stole life from us. That's what it feels like, except not all at once."

Finn's hand stroked her hair, and his grip loosened enough for them to look at each other. "Can you ask the Jedi what to do? Maybe they can fix it somehow - "

Rey swallowed. "I did, and they can't. What _could_ they do, anyway? They're all _dead_. They have no life to give."

He stilled. "...I do."

Rey had once cut into a live circuit on a wreck, and that shock had felt a lot like this. "Finn, _no._"

He had that set to his jaw again. "It doesn't have to kill me. You healed that sandsnake, remember?"

"Yes, but - " She sputtered. "Finn, this won't stop. You'd have to keep feeding me life, and that _would_ kill you."

"If we had more students – "

Rey pushed away from him, horror chilling her skin. "No! What kind of life is that, draining other people to stay alive? It's – it's _Sith,_ that's what it is. No Jedi would – "

"_This_ Jedi would. _We _would, to help you live, Rey. We could _choose_ it." Finn folded his arms, glaring at her as if a stern look would change her mind.

Rey reached for the well of calm that Leia had taught her to find, and breathed out. "But _I_ can't. Finn, Jedi work _with_ the Force. Not against it. If death is at the end of this, I can't fight it. Not without betraying everything I've been taught."

He stared at her for a long, long moment, and then his mouth trembled, and Rey grabbed him up in another hug. He held her so hard it hurt, and his tears were hot on her neck. "What good does it all do?" he muttered into her shoulder, breath hitching. "Rey, we can't _lose_ you."

"It did enough," she whispered back. "Maybe I wasn't supposed to survive it."

And what would have happened to the Jedi then? _This is their last chance. _Finn knew even less than Rey did; she had to teach him all she could in whatever time they had. But it felt as though the future of the Jedi were a wire she was pulling, trying to reach the end, and it kept getting thinner. Would it snap if the broken bond finally killed her?

_I don't know how to do this._

But Rey had spent most of her life figuring it out on her own, from dismantling a pulse rifle to fixing the air intake on a speeder to knocking an attacker out with a staff.

_I will do this. _

_ For as long as I can._

She gave Finn one more squeeze and let him go, reaching for normalcy. "Now, apprentice, we're going to run the course until you can do it blindfolded."

Finn swiped tears from his face and gave her a skeptical look. "That's just a saying, right?"

Rey grinned like a space slug and called a training helmet to her hand. The blast shield snapped down. "Nope."

"Aww, _crap._"

* * *

He sat and stared at his empty, idle hands. It felt strange, to have nothing to do; and while this space of light didn't permit _boredom_, the habits of a lifetime were as hard to shake as the reflexes.

Ben had always thought better when his hands were busy. He wasn't a fidgeter, as such; any tendency towards _that_ had been eroded by Jedi training and then thoroughly burnt out by Snoke. But he'd grown up playing with puzzles, building models, learning the constant little repairs the _Falcon _required; even in Luke's temple he'd had arts to practice, or his saber to tinker with.

And it was weird, too, having no voice in his head. No one there at all. No insidious whispers, no crushing force...no haunting, anger-tinged sweetness.

Just him. Quiet and alone.

He didn't like it quite as much as he might have thought. Ben had dreamed, hopelessly, of silence, back when the only things the voices brought were darkness and pain. Now he walked the empty halls of his mind and wished for Rey's rippling flame, her bright defiance, even if it burned.

Ben sighed, flexing his fingers, then lifted a hand to his left shoulder. Even that habitual gesture was strange, because that scar was gone too – and not just in this odd new body. Rey's gift to him on Kef Bir had healed every wound she'd dealt him, and the rough circle had become smooth skin once more.

_Rey._

Ben pinched the bridge of his nose, pressing his eyes shut. _This is...futile._ He couldn't reach her while she was awake; he couldn't speak to her while she was dreaming. She was fading, and he couldn't _help_ her. And there was no one here who would.

Despair and muted anger were metallic on the back of his tongue. _If she dies,_ suggested a nasty little voice inside him, _when she dies, you won't be apart any longer._

_**No.**__ She deserves to __**live**__. _She deserved to live and be happy, to become whatever she wanted to be, to enjoy the peace she'd made possible. She _didn't_ deserve to waste away, mere months after victory, and end up in this odd space, tied to _him_.

_"Neither you nor I can break a dyad."_

Ben had no reason to doubt Luke's words. He wasn't even sure it was possible to lie here. But -

_The Force created it. Can the Force __**break**__ it?_

Ben opened his eyes to the formless brilliance around him. It was a worthy question, no matter how it nauseated him, but how was he supposed to -

The light grew brighter still. Ben's breath caught as that sensation of vast _attention_ fixed on him once more.

_Ben Solo. _Was his name different now, in some subtle way? He couldn't quite tell.

He swallowed hard, then reached inside for the little spark within him, offering it up. "Please. _Please_. Take it back. Make her free again."

His heart cracked, and he gazed longingly at the tiny brilliance even as he waited for it to be lifted from his grasp.

As he watched, the spark drifted out of his hands...and back down into the core of him. It almost seemed to _nestle_ there, and Ben's soul trembled at the feel of its returning.

_You are not finished._ The words were gentle, and the _you_ was plural. _More change is needed. Balance has not been restored._

The communication ceased to even pretend it was using words. The concept that grew in his mind was stunning in its vision - and its audacity. Ben gaped at it for a long moment before speaking. "Well, _that's _going to annoy some people."

The serenity in the response rendered the idea of opposition minuscule, almost laughable. _It is necessary._

Ben shook his head. "What can I do _here?_" It made no sense. "I can't even speak to her - "

The concept shifted, focused - and stole his breath. "You can send me back?" To go back to Rey, to ease her pain - to see her smile again - "You can _do_ that?"

_Are you not a living thing?_ came the question, alight with humor.

Ben looked down at his unblemished hands, turned them over and back again. "Not at the moment, no," he returned dryly.

_Life is greater than your understanding. _It was somehow reassuring, but Ben frowned, anger rousing again.

"Wait, if you can do that – why did you _wait?_ She's _hurting – _"

_Balance._ It wasn't quite admonitory, but there was no doubting it. _And healing._ _When you are finished, it will be time._

"Finished?" Ben blinked as the sense of _presence_ lessened, baffled. "What –_ "_

_Oh. Oh, __**no.**_

The two figures coalescing from the light dropped him straight into a flood of shame and guilt. Instinct told him to flee, but Ben found himself paralyzed, unable to move, unable even to hide his face. All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and wait for the blow to fall.

Strong hands laden with the memory of rings cupped his face, cool and gentle. "Ben," his mother said, as soft as the last time he'd heard her voice. As _loving_. "Son."

The pain sliced through him from top to toe, and it would have been easier to face her rejection. Ben choked, fists clenching, and Leia pulled him down into her embrace.

It was too much. She should hate him, despise him, but instead she held him tightly, and it tore him open like nothing else, drowning him in regret and grief. A hard hug wrapped around him from behind, familiar and just as painful, and the "It's okay, kid," hoarse and equally loving, had him sobbing helplessly into the soft white robe his face was pressed against.

_I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._ It was all he could think, barely words at all, but in this shining place his parents heard every one of them. He was laid as bare to them as the day he was born, and he could feel them too, their love and remorse and forgiveness. That hurt the worst, that last, driving into the center of him like a spike, because he didn't deserve it; but he could not close himself to it.

_I killed you _tumbled out of him, _I killed you both_, more feelings than words. It was met with _**we**__ failed __**you**__,_ and Ben knew that didn't make it right, but somehow the words drained out years of bitterness and hurt.

They held him for a long, long time, there where time didn't seem to matter; held him until he calmed, aching soul drifting in a comfort he thought he'd destroyed forever. Ben found himself more or less in Leia's lap, her arms keeping him close; Han sat next to her, one arm around her waist, the other hand wrapped around Ben's fingers in a warm clasp. Anywhere else it might have been ridiculous, undignified; here, it was simply right.

Ben snuffled, and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his free hand, blinking shyly up at them. Like Luke, they appeared neither young nor old, simply purely _them_. And unlike during their lives, they were…undivided.

"How – " His voice cracked. "How can you forgive me for what I've done?"

"How can we not?" Leia bore some of the same serenity Luke had shown. "You're our son."

"And we're partly to blame." Han's smile was softer than Ben could remember seeing before, edged with sadness. "Ben, you didn't choose your path all on your own."

"That doesn't excuse it." Ben swallowed, his throat raw.

"Of course it doesn't." Leia spoke firmly. "But the responsibility isn't wholly yours." A flicker of anger in her, an image or two, and Ben was suddenly aware that Palpatine's dissolution had possibly saved the Emperor from a _worse_ fate.

"And you turned back," Han pointed out, squeezing Ben's hand. "You _chose_ to turn back."

Ben bowed his head. "_Was_ that just a memory?" he whispered.

Leia snickered_._ Ben looked up, startled, and saw Han's face flushing. "I'm not _supposed_ to be Force-sensitive," he grumbled, and nudged Leia. "Stop that."

Ben couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed.

It felt _good_.

They sat together for a long time, sharing memories much like Ben had with Luke, untrammeled now by anger or misunderstanding. There was healing in it, but also sadness, and Ben found himself mourning for what could have been, what _should_ have been. But the past could not be changed; there was only the path forward, whatever it might be.

The strange _offer_ burned in the back of Ben's mind. Without words he showed it to Han and Leia; they didn't exactly exchange a glance, but the effect was the same. "Good," Leia said, still firm.

Han chuckled. "Luke'll _love_ that. He'll be stomping all over the place saying _I told you so._"

Leia rolled her eyes and leaned over to ruffle Ben's hair. "Skywalker men. So dramatic, all of you."

For the first time in forever, the comparison made Ben grin.


	8. Feel Myself Begin

The hangar housing Rey's training ground was empty when she slipped inside; it was the one place on the entire massive ship that Rey knew she wouldn't be interrupted, since Finn would be gone overnight with Poe on some kind of fact-finding trip. She sealed the airlock after herself anyway. She needed a bit of peace, and her rooms felt too stuffy and enclosed right now.

_I miss the green._ The course was nowhere near as complex as the one Leia had created back at the base; it was just cobbled together from whatever Rey had managed to scavenge and repurpose from the _New Republic's_ stores. But Rey was used to making do, and Finn was learning fast.

She settled at the hangar's opening, sitting crosslegged on the deck just behind the atmosphere field, ignoring the chill of the metal beneath her. Technically Rey was supposed to be at yet another meeting, but - thinking of Leia - she'd simply sent a message saying she was unable to attend, and no one had challenged her. It was a little heady, realising that she could say _no _if she wanted to.

She watched the stars for a long time. They were different, out of atmosphere. Rey had seen glorious starscapes on Jakku, out where there was so little light to interfere, but she'd rarely taken the time to appreciate them; night was dangerous in the desert. On Ahch-To, it was usually cloudy, and at the Resistance base the trees had made the stars hard to see.

Here, though, they were undimmed, blazing swathes of colour and light, each one a promise of something new beyond Rey's old dreams. She'd found the island of her imaginings, and outgrown it; the stars offered uncounted adventures that were, perhaps, illusory, and yet Rey couldn't help imagining a future where she set out to find the perfect place to found a new Jedi academy.

_But alone, _the back of her mind whispered. _Alone._ Because Finn would go with Poe, that much was clear, and Jannah hadn't decided, and...

And Rey was alone, now, and always would be. Alone in the deepest way, alone as she hadn't been even on Jakku. She'd been lonely then, so lonely it had come close to breaking her, but she'd been _whole_.

Rey let out a long breath, then closed her eyes and centered herself. It was easier, now, to fall into the meditative trance, and she couldn't help thinking what it would be like to just - let go. To release her spirit the way Luke had, to stop _fighting._

_I hope...maybe I'd get to see Ben again._ Did he miss her at all? Think of her? Did he even remember her, beyond the barrier of death? Maybe he was at peace, finally; Rey could hope that for him, his torment and pain finally done. She tried to imagine him relaxed, smiling - she'd seen the latter, but never the former.

_It's not fair. But when is it ever fair? _

Her breath slowed, and even the burning ache seemed to be subsiding. It felt as if she might float up off the deck without even trying, as if the ship's gravity field could no longer hold her...

_**"No."**_

Rey's eyes snapped open as someone grabbed her shoulders. The snarled word was _audible,_ not memory not illusion not -

_Ben._

_...What?_

Rey jerked in shock as the broken, burning place within her vanished, swallowed up in a fountain of light and healing, her soul whole as if it had never been torn. Ben crouched in front of her on the deck, hands tight on her shoulders, a horrible scowl on his face, eyes wild with -

\- fear?

_"No," _he repeated, shaking her. "No, you don't get to - not again, Rey, _please - "_

Rey sucked in a gasp, astonished, because he couldn't possibly be _real,_ and yet -

She lifted a trembling hand to his chest. His heart pounded under her touch, his tunic was rough against her fingertips, far too substantial to be anything but solid.

One big hand covered hers, pressing it against him. "Rey," Ben said again, barely more than a whisper. "Rey, _stay._" He gulped. "Don't - don't leave m- "

The word choked off. Bliss crested and spilled out of her, too much to contain. "Ben," she said, or tried to, but her voice stuck in her throat.

His other hand left her shoulder to cup her face, thumb brushing over her smile, and the fear became wide-eyed, uncertain joy. "Rey?"

Too much, it was too _much_, and she didn't want to miss a second of it. Rey reached for him, and the next instant he was wrapping her up in a hug so hard it hurt. She clutched him close, and then they were sprawled on the chilly deck, too overwhelmed to keep their balance.

Ben was laughing under her, and Rey found herself laughing too, hot wetness streaking her face as if the healed bond had opened a spring within her. He _was_ real, he was _real,_ it made _no_ sense but he was real, big and warm and the dyad bond - the bond had never felt like _this_ -

_Did I die and just not notice it?_ But her foot was asleep from long sitting and her ass was cold, and Ben was shaking, breath catching in sobs mixed with the laughter.

Rey blotted her tears on his shoulder and lifted her head enough to see his face. He still looked stunned, but his eyes were lit, as beautiful as that last moment before he'd -

_"How?"_ Rey's arms tightened involuntarily, as if he might melt away again, and for all she knew he _might_. "How are you alive?"

Ben laughed again, blinking his own tears away, and Rey lifted a hand to brush them from his skin, marveling at how it flushed under her fingertips. "It's - it's a long story. I - it sent me back, but - "

His words trailed off, his expression deepening to an awed tenderness that made Rey's own heart speed up. "You're staying, aren't you?" he whispered, still with an edge of fear. "I swear you were going transparent, I - "

Rey grabbed him close again, tucking her head under his chin and feeling, with a strange thrill, his fingers sliding into her hair, though his other arm was still a hard band around her ribs. The bond's restoration anchored her; she had weight again, almost as if she had never begun to fade. "I'm staying." She swallowed hard. "If you are."

_"Yes."_ The word was half-strangled, pressed against her scalp. "Rey - I won't, I won't - "

_I won't leave you. _It wasn't words as such; it was a flood of certainty, a promise laced with wondering devotion that filled up all the places that had been so long empty within her, so pinched with hunger. Rey squeezed her eyes shut, throat spasming, and let her fierce exultation rush into him in turn, the simple knowledge that they belonged together, now and always, _always_.

Once in a thousand years, they said on Jakku, it would rain, and the dry sands would burst into riotous bloom. Rey had never believed it - there wasn't enough moisture on the whole planet to form a single cloud, let alone a rainstorm - but when she was little she had dreamed about it from time to time. Now it was as if her dream were coming true, the torrent of her self soaking into what had so long been barren within him, spreading life where there had been nothing.

Slowly the tumultuous surge smoothed out, a tumbling river becoming a sunlit sea within them. Ben's heartbeat beneath Rey's ear gradually slowed, and his hard hold relaxed into a caress. She rubbed her cheek against his tunic, her fingers loosening where they had dug into the fabric, and managed to prop herself up on his chest.

Ben's hand slid forward enough to cup her cheek again, a reverent, delicate touch. His eyes were reddened, and the awe she saw in them was echoing through the dyad bond. "Rey." It was hardly audible, but she could _feel_ her name as he spoke it, a scintillation of light and life. "I...I don't deserve this." _I don't deserve you. _

Layers of guilt and pain and regret, soothed by their bond but still present. Rey could perceive it all, taste the memories that burned beneath the light...and decided to spike the argument before it got started. "Too bad. You've got me anyway."

He opened his mouth, and Rey laid a finger across it, stifling the automatic protest. She didn't reply in words, just offered the firm assurance that he would not, now or at any time, get whatever it was he felt he _did_ deserve.

It made him laugh again, incredulous, tears spilling over, and Rey knew that she would give a _lot_ to see him laugh. Ben covered her hand with his own, pressing her palm to his lips. She could tell he didn't quite believe her, but that was all right; he would learn.

Rey felt him form her name against her skin, and oh, it was so _strange_ to see him again, with no division between them. No _fight._ They didn't even have sides to be _on_, any longer.

It made her think of that one moment on Exegol, though Rey shied away from the rest of it - when Ben had come to her side, and they had met each other's eyes - and everything had fallen into place. A communion she had never even thought of, a _unity_ that had shaken her soul, Ben's warm heart made free at last, an eager joining - and then it had been gone, ripped away.

Now...now they were healed.

Rey shifted enough to pull her hand free, Ben's arm tightening reflexively around her waist. The shock of miracle was still reverberating in their souls, and as before, the sheer _joy_ of it pulled them into one another. His mouth was hot and soft and fervent against hers, and this time there was no tang of blood, no distracting pain.

Warmth and delight and a tinge of incredulity flowed back and forth between them, though when Rey managed to lift her head again a lance of fear ran through her, and her fingers dug into Ben's tunic. But he grinned at her, that same dazed delight, and cupped the back of her head. "No. I'm staying."

"You had better," Rey muttered, and pressed her cheek against his chest, the easier to hear his heartbeat. His fingers wove into her hair again, gentle against the bindings, and she felt the rhythmic thump slow a fraction.

"I thought about this." His voice was hushed, reverent. "Just this, just how it might feel to touch you."

They'd barely done that either, Rey thought. One fragile, searing brush of fingers; a couple of fleeting moves in the midst of battle; her hand on his tunic to heal him; and then Exegol. That was it. _No wonder this feels like too much._

"Not quite," Ben said, voice gone shy as their thoughts mingled. "I...I carried you. On Takodana."

The shame was fresh again, washing through him, though from within his memory Rey could sense the strange thrill he'd felt holding her, even unconscious. A sensation he'd tried frantically to deny, at the time.

Rey was too bemused by the remembrance to take offence. "That's probably when the dyad formed," she said slowly, lifting her head again, leaning into his hand as it curved around to her cheek. "I'm...not sure you could have avoided it."

She wasn't sure where the knowledge came from either, but Ben's pulse of surprise was clear as he thought over the new perspective. The shame was still there, though, and Rey turned her face into his palm to kiss it. "Leave it," she said firmly. "At least for now."

Rueful amusement, and a relaxing of tension, and then he was drawing her gently forward until their mouths met again. Rey let her hands find his hair in turn, and slid into bliss.

* * *

Ben watched as Rey worked on the access hatch set into the hangar wall, scarcely able to look away. He didn't know where they were, aside from some large ship, but it was hard to care; Rey was all that mattered at the moment.

He was still oddly shaky, and not just from the joy of seeing her again. Ben glanced down at himself, noting absently that he was actually wearing the clothes he'd envisioned, the plain gray tunic and trousers, and while the injuries he'd died with were healed, he felt weak, as if his body had undergone a massive loss of energy.

_I guess it did. Maybe?_ Creation did require energy, after all, and the body he'd found himself in anew had all the familiar twinges from all the familiar scars.

It wasn't as if the Force had given him much information; he'd just heard _you are ready_ in his mind, and the light had faded, and he'd..._coalesced_ was the only word that seemed to fit. On a hangar deck he didn't recognize, in front of a Rey who had seemed, in that first dazed, panicked moment, to be on the verge of dissolution.

_I'm still not sure she wasn't - _

He lost the thought immediately as Rey popped the panel off and staggered, nearly losing her balance. Ben lurched forward to catch her, and she leaned back against him, laughing. "Wow, sorry, I got a little dizzy."

She was _far_ too thin, Ben noted with a pang of worry. "Do you need to put your head down?"

"No, I'm okay." Rey straightened, and he drew his hands away reluctantly. She set the panel aside and stuck her head into the opening. "Mm, yeah, this will work."

They hadn't discussed it in words, only in images shared across the bond, but Ben wasn't quite ready to face anyone besides Rey, and the last of the Jedi attracted attention whenever she appeared in public. However, for a scavenger the maintenance ducts were an obvious solution.

"There's light bars in the orange crate over there, grab a couple, would you?" She waved an arm, still halfway inside the duct; Ben complied, tucking two into his pocket and taking two more.

"Why not use your saber?" he asked, curious, as Rey stepped all the way through the hatch.

"We'd set off the fire sensors," trailed out, echoing slightly, and Ben ducked through the opening to follow.

The duct was larger than he was expecting - big enough for him to stand upright - and dimly lit. Ben handed Rey one of the light bars. "Will we need these?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. This is a newer ship but maintenance lights don't get fixed quickly. Better to have them if we need them."

Rey stuffed the light into her belt and grabbed Ben's hand, but before she could tug him along he pulled her gently back until he could wrap his arms around her again. Just to feel her; just to know she was _alive_.

Rey hugged him back tightly, forehead pressing against his collarbone, and Ben bent his neck so he could bury his nose in her hair. She was warm and solid against him, but he felt a tremble pass through her, her breath not quite steady.

It would be a while, he suspected, before either of them would be able to set aside their fear entirely.

But the dyad bond drew their minds together, and Ben's agitation eased as Rey's strength poured into him. Her own tension relaxed, and she sighed, content.

_Can we just stay like this? _Ben asked, and Rey's giggle made his heart trip. She sent him an image of them, still locked in an embrace but surrounded by puzzled cleaning droids, and Ben had to smile. It still felt strange; he had smiled more in the last hour than he had in years.

She led him on a winding path through the ship's guts, scrambling around bulkheads and stepping over thick cables; Ben found himself mesmerized by Rey's confidence, her ease in choosing their way. They passed banks of machinery and countless access hatches, fortunately all closed; every so often they encountered a maintenance droid, but each one would just trill in a confused fashion and detour around them.

He'd seen it, of course, the first time he'd pushed into Rey's mind - years of scavenging through downed ships looking for scraps, memorizing ways in and out and through. She could read the pattern of this one almost as if she'd built it herself. _She was wasted on Jakku._

Fatigue crept up on him much too soon, but Ben could feel Rey's tiredness too, her limbs growing heavy. Both of them were used to pushing through, but Ben couldn't think of any reason to do so. "Let's stop for a bit?"

"This is ridiculous," Rey muttered as they sat back against a support strut. Ben reached for her hand and she clasped his unhesitatingly, and he felt another tiny part of himself heal at the gesture. It was immediately overtaken by worry.

"I know why I'm tired. I think." Ben looked down at the knot of their fingers. "But you - Rey, how long have you been feeling like this?"

She snickered. "About an hour?" At his frown, her hand tightened. "Ben, I've been losing energy since...since Exegol." She swallowed, sobering a little. "I'm not any more."

He caught her thought, eyes flying wide at the concept. "You mean..."

_A power like life itself,_ Rey said silently, lips quirking. _It makes sense._

It did. The dyad bond hadn't _broken_ \- but it had taken time to heal, to rebuild the Force energy within Rey so that it could bring him back to her side.

If the Emperor hadn't drained them - she might not have died, and Ben might not have had to give everything he had to bring her back. But he _had_ drained them, and the loss had - killed them both.

Just not _permanently._

Ben was torn between the neatness of the solution, and horror at what she had endured, now that he could see her memories clearly - the weeks of aching loss, the burn at the bottom of her soul. _"Rey."_

"It's okay," she said, as he pulled her onto his lap, curling around her as if he could leach away the pain she'd suffered. "I got you back. It was worth it."

The automatic denial clotted on his tongue, but Ben shook his head, pressing his face to her crown. _I saw your dreams. But I didn't know you hurt like that._

"Hmm." Rey folded her hands over his arms where they wrapped around her. "You did?"

Ben breathed out, calling up his own memories for her to see, his frustration at being only an observer. "I couldn't reach you any other way."

A pulse of sorrow. "I wish I'd known."

Rey shifted in his embrace, rising up to kneel athwart his legs and cupping his face in her palms. Her gaze searched his, and Ben couldn't look away, as lost in her as when she'd opened her eyes and started breathing again.

"You're the first one," she said at last, soft and wondering. "The first one who ever came back for me."

_Oh._ Ben leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers. "I always will."

His voice wavered; Rey's hands slid to his shoulders, her breath hitching. It was an insane promise to make, he'd had about as much control over coming back to life as he'd had in dying, but Ben meant it with everything in him.

And she believed him. Believed _in_ him, with that firm strength that had infuriated and confounded him, that now he could love openly.

He didn't know who he was, any more; this dizzy, overjoyed man seemed the inverse of everything he'd been, his whole self turned inside out and upside down. But this version of Ben Solo was the one Rey wanted, and the one that could try to repair at least a little of what he'd marred, and that was the person he wanted to be.

_"Ben,"_ Rey muttered, and held him tightly, and together they rested in the dimness until their hearts had calmed and they could go on.

It wasn't much longer before a faint breeze brushed past them, smelling of metal and electricity; up ahead, Ben could see the vertical space of an access shaft cutting through the decks. "Down two decks from here," Rey said, sounding pleased, and they paused on the lip of the shaft to look.

It was darker than the maintenance duct, cut by rings of light overhead and below from other decks; built for droids, not flesh and blood. Rey crouched and felt along the lip of the shaft.

"What are you looking for?" Ben asked.

She frowned, fingers running back and forth. "The switch for the ladder, it should be here somewhere."

Ben smothered a grin. "Are you, or are you not, a Jedi?"

Rey blinked at him, then rolled her eyes and stood up. "Laserbrains," she muttered without heat, and Ben gave into the laugh and held out his hands.

They drifted slowly down the shaft, fingers laced together, letting the Force push them gently through the air rather than wielding it as a tool. It was different, to meet Rey's eyes on a level, though Ben could scarcely make out her face in the dimness, and the bond wrapped them in such closeness that they almost passed the deck they wanted.

He swung her gently to the floor when they reached it, trying to steal a kiss, but how could it be theft when she gave it to him with such enthusiasm?

They were close to their goal; within a few minutes they were stepping out into an empty corridor and then slipping into Rey's suite, an elegant space that made Ben's brows rise in approval. _At least they value her._

Rey unclipped her sabers and the light bar and laid them carefully on the low table in the reception area, then blew out a breath. "I know there's a lot to discuss," she said, almost shy, and Ben couldn't help taking a step towards her. "But all I really want to do right now is sleep."

She laid a hand over his heart; he could _see_ what she wished for, and it matched his desires exactly. Ben bowed his head, covering her hand with his own, and let her lead him to the ornate couch against one wall.

It was long enough for him to stretch out on, wide enough for them to both fit; Rey pulled him down to rest his head on her chest. "It's always too cold in here and you're _warm_."

Ben went gladly, arms burrowing beneath her back, closing his eyes in dazed contentment as her fingers stroked through his hair. Exhaustion was drawing them both down towards sleep, but Ben could sense her still-bewildered joy, underlain with the odd euphoria that comes with the cessation of long pain.

_You're here,_ her mind whispered to his, edged with wonder. _You're here._

He didn't have to raise his head to see her. _I won't leave you,_ he repeated. _You'll never be alone again._

Their thoughts scattered and dissolved, but the joy hummed on.

* * *

Rey's stomach roused her, hunger gradually nudging her awake even though she fought to stay asleep. It was her normal mode of waking - had been for as long as she could remember - and lately it took her sleepy brain a few minutes to remember that there was food in abundance not far away; that she didn't have to spend hours working before she could even half-fill her belly.

What _wasn't_ normal was the cozy warmth that enveloped her, or the steady beat of a heart just under her ear.

For a while Rey drifted, enjoying the sheer comfort but not quite awake enough to wonder _why_. She had spent so many years sleeping cold, waking shivering, huddled in whatever rags of cloth she could find to insulate her from the desert night; to lie in softness, all her muscles relaxed instead of knotted, was blissful enough to befuddle her.

Then the fabric beneath her cheek shifted slightly as someone breathed out, and Rey became aware of the weight across her waist that was an arm, and she surfaced into consciousness, eyes flying open as memory woke too.

_Oh - _

"Are you hungry?" Ben's voice was almost more sensation than sound, vibrating beneath her ear, and Rey realised she was lying across his lap, wrapped in a blanket. Out of the corner of her eye she saw something animated playing soundlessly on the suite's holovid, but his free hand moved and it snapped off. "Rey?"

She'd woken like this once before, but this time there was no pain or confusion. Just comfort, and delight.

Her cheeks ache with the width of her smile. Ben gazed back down at her, expression a little uncertain until she reached up to touch his face. "It's nicer this time."

His answering smile was slow and soft and melted her heart. "Infinitely."

Rey sat up, missing the feel of his arm as it drew back from her waist, and shed the blanket with a long stretch before turning to pull Ben into a kiss. It was so strange, to touch him without fear or anger or division; strange, but wonderful. His hand on her back was light, the caress of his mouth as soft as his smile, and her contentment was reflected back from him, tempting her to just lean in and _stay_.

But her stomach wasn't having it, and Ben's chuckle broke the kiss, his fingers grazing her temple in a quick caress. "You do need to eat."

Rey sighed, sitting back on her heels. "How long did I sleep?"

"Just a few hours." Ben pushed to his feet and crossed to the bar, where a number of covered dishes sat. "These are still warm."

Rey blinked. "Where did you get food?"

Ben blinked back at her, nonplussed. "I requested it from the kitchens."

"You can _do_ that?" Rey slid off the couch, hurrying towards the bar. "I thought everyone had to eat in the dining hall."

"Maybe some do, but you're ambassador-level." Ben's brow was creased. "You could ask for them to bring you cakes every hour on the hour, and they'd do it."

"That would be wasteful." Rey grabbed a plate and started lifting lids. "You should eat too."

"Hm. I didn't know what you'd like - "

Rey glanced back at him before scooping salad onto her plate. "I don't care, as long as it's edible."

Ben's expression was somewhere between puzzled and pained, but Rey was _hungry_ \- and since he was picking up his own plate, she let it go for the moment.

They ate mostly in silence; Rey was used to hunger, but she suspected that Ben's restoration had something to do with why they were both fairly ravenous, especially since she'd eaten twice already that day. And it pleased her very much to see his skin warm towards pink as he ate.

Ben finished first, and was poking through the bar's beverage options when the door chime sounded repeatedly. The soundproofing was excellent, but Rey still flinched at both the impact of Finn's agitation and the muffled yelling. _"Rey! _Are you in there?"

Rey set her plate aside, alarmed, but when she met Ben's eyes he had gone so stiff that his shoulders were practically at his ears.

"Do you want to..." She trailed off. Suggesting out loud that he hide in the bedroom seemed a little absurd.

Ben grimaced and shook his head. "There's no point in putting it off, I suppose."

If Finn hadn't sounded so upset, she would have gone over and given Ben a kiss, but instead Rey hurried to the door.

Finn tumbled inside as soon as it slid open, grabbing her shoulders. _"Rey."_

His eyes were wide and his hair was rumpled, and Rey gripped his forearms in turn. "What's the matter?"

_"Ugh."_ He enveloped her in a tight hug. "You nearly blipped out again, _that's_ what's the matter!"

_Oh._ Rey returned the hug, taken aback. She glanced sideways; Ben was leaning against the bar with his arms folded, face blank. The emotions churning through him were hard to sort, but as he regarded Finn, guilt was uppermost.

She sent him as much reassurance as she could. Finn was leaking fear and confusion, and Rey tried to steady him until he pulled back enough to see her. "What the hell _happened_, Rey? That felt like Exegol all over again!"

Ben paled, and Rey patted Finn and let him go. "Um, long story. But I'm fine."

Finn frowned, and she could feel his senses reaching out to her, still a little clumsy. "No, you're not," he said, brows going up. "But the bleeding - "

He cut himself off, head turning in Ben's direction, and in the next moment Rey got a demonstration of her effectiveness as a teacher as Finn flung out a hand and one of her sabers flew into his grip, igniting as his fingers closed on the handle. "You!"

Ben stood stiffly, one hand down at his side as if prepared to counter, but it was reflex; Rey felt him let go of his defensive impulse. She scowled and stepped in between them. "Finn, it's all right."

After about three breaths, Finn straightened. He looked back to Rey for a long moment, then peered around her to stare at Ben again, jaw shifting.

"Is he real?" Finn demanded at last, still frowning.

"Yes." Rey eyed the lit saber; she was confident that she could block Finn from attacking Ben if she had to, but it would mean having to move quickly.

Finn made a disgruntled sound - and shut off the saber, extending it to Rey. "As I was saying. The bleeding's stopped. I assume he's why?"

Rey gaped at Finn, and she could sense Ben's confusion as well. "Y-yeah." She took the saber, hooking it absently on her belt.

"Right." Finn stalked over to Ben, glaring hard enough to burn through starsteel, and looked him up and down. "Are you sticking around this time?"

Ben swallowed, staring back in bewilderment. "Yes."

Finn nodded once, sharply, then turned his back on Ben and hugged Rey again, more gently this time. "Still a rancor's asshole," he muttered in her ear, making her choke. "_You're_ sticking around too, right?"

"Yes." Rey savoured his hug; like Poe, he'd turned out to be very good at them. "Yes I am."

"Good." Finn released her. "Now can you please tell me what the _hell _is going on?"

Rey traded glances with Ben, who hadn't moved from where his back was pressed against the bar. "Well - "

"Finn?" Poe's voice came through the still-open door. "Is she okay?"

"I'm _fine,_" Rey called, a little exasperated. Poe appeared in the doorway, brow creased with concern that lightened when he spotted Rey.

"Huh. You do look better, actually. What - "

Poe's gaze tracked right and landed on Ben, and his face went from its usual open pleasantness to fury in an instant, hand flying to his blaster. Rey froze his arm before he could get the weapon clear of its holster, but it was Finn who tackled him, pulling him backwards towards the door.

"Hold that thought," Finn said to Rey, raising his voice over Poe's swearing. "We'll talk later - "

He managed to get Poe out the door, and Rey tapped the panel to close it, hearing the shouting fade away down the corridor. She looked back to Ben.

"That went well," he said, deadpan, and she couldn't help spluttering a laugh.

He met her halfway for a hug, and sighed into her hair. "Is everyone who sees you going to want to kill you?" Rey asked, not entirely facetiously, and felt him shrug.

"Hard to say. It depends on who recognizes me, I suppose."

"Hmm." Rey held him for a moment longer, feeling his tension ebb, then led him back to the couch, scooping up her plate on the way. "Just how many people know that..."

"That I was Kylo Ren?" Ben finished when she hesitated, sitting down and drawing her down next to him. "I'm not sure. It wasn't common knowledge in the First Order, and most of the officers who knew are dead now."

Rey crossed her legs under her and chased the last few bites of her supper. "That leaves the rest of the galaxy," she said around a mouthful, and Ben's lips turned up.

"For that you'll have to ask someone else. Though I doubt my...my parents made it public."

The pulse of pain that Rey expected at the mention was barely there; in its place he was feeling something akin to peace, if laced with regret. She set aside her plate. "I wouldn't know. But Chewie will."

Ben sobered, lips tightening, and Rey leaned forward, cupping his chin and making him look at her. "He'll be happy to see you," she said firmly. "Trust me, Ben."

The smile returned, small but definite. "I do," he said, and pulled her gently to him, and there was no need to talk for a while.


	9. To Stand Beside You

It took all of Finn's muscle to get Poe out of Rey's suite, and he suspected that it would have been a deadlock if Poe hadn't been distracted by rage. Finn half-dragged him down the corridor, marveling at Poe's range of invective and desperately hoping that none of the councilmembers would show up just then, because _dignity _was not something either of them could manage at the moment.

Halfway to their quarters, Finn lost patience. "Okay, that's _enough_," he said, pinning Poe against the nearest wall with an arm across his collarbone. "Shut it down before the Coruscant rep comes by and embarrasses both of us."

Poe glared at him, teeth bared. _"Did you see that?"_

"Yeah. Not the time or _place,_ Dameron." Finn glared right back, holding firm against Poe's tension, and finally Poe deflated, no longer trying to push back. "Come on. When we get back to our suite you can yell as much as you want."

"Oh, I _will._" Poe twisted out of Finn's loosened grip and stomped down the hallway, and Finn followed, wondering wryly just how big the explosion would be.

Big enough, it seemed; as soon as the door closed behind them Poe was cursing again, striding up and down their reception room and ranting about Kylo Ren, Sith powers, and Palpatine, and Finn leaned against the wall and let him get it out. Clearly there was no point in talking to him, or even offering an embrace, until he calmed.

It took a while. Finn didn't blame Poe for being upset; he wasn't exactly sanguine about the situation either. To say it was _difficult_ didn't even begin to cover things.

Eventually, though, Poe ran out of words and whirled on Finn, still furious. "Why the hell aren't you upset about this?"

"I am. I'm just more quiet." Finn unfolded his arms and pushed away from the wall, fetching a bulb of water and tossing it to Poe, who plucked it out of the air distractedly. "I understand why you want to kill him again, but it's not a good idea."

"Yeah? How come?" Poe ran a hand through his hair, face hard.

"Because Rey's not dying any more."

Finn watched Poe blink in confusion, and hoped Rey would forgive him for telling Poe her private business - but if it kept Poe from shooting Ren, it would be worth it.

"Okay, back that up." Poe rolled his hands over one another in a reversing gesture. "What do you mean, Rey's not dying _any more_? And what the hell does Kylo Ren not staying a corpse have to do with it?"

Finn exhaled. "This is going to be complicated," he warned, and pointed at the nearest armchair. "So sit."

Poe looked as if he were going to argue, but he obeyed, sitting straight and absently opening the water. Finn got a bulb for himself and sat opposite Poe, trying to organize his thoughts.

"How much do you know about the Jedi?" Finn said at last, propping his elbows on his knees and rolling the bulb between his palms.

Poe gave him an impatient look. "Mystical order of warriors dedicated to the Light, mostly exterminated by the Empire two generations ago. Cool weapons and weird powers."

Finn sighed at the abbreviated description. "Close enough I guess. Look, what I'm going to tell you is private, okay? You have to keep it to yourself." Poe snorted, and Finn pointed at him. "I'm _serious_."

"All right, all right." Poe raised a hand. "I'll keep my mouth shut."

"You better." Finn rubbed his forehead. "As close as I can tell, when Ren took Rey back on Takodana, the Force created a bond between the two of them."

Poe's jaw dropped, and Finn gave him a stern look to ward off the protest. "I read about it in the Jedi texts, all right? It's called a dyad bond, and if one of a pair dies the other one doesn't live very long."

Poe closed his mouth, opened it, then closed it again. "You mean, when Ren died - "

"It broke something in Rey. I could _feel_ it, Poe. She was dying bit by bit, but she said there was nothing we could do about it." The memory still made his throat close.

Poe's brows drew together, more concern than anger. "But she's okay now, right?"

"Yeah. Because Ren's back." Finn sat up and opened the bulb, taking a long drink to ease the tightness. "I don't know why or how, but I think it happened when I - "

The memory was still raw - it had only been a few hours, after all. Cruising at a good speed, almost halfway to their destination, when Finn had felt Rey's spirit flicker the same way it had at Exegol, a flame guttering on the point of extinguishing. His panic had Poe dropping them out of hyperspace so fast that their ship had groaned around them, then hurtling them back to the _New Republic,_ and while Finn hadn't felt Rey actually _cease_, he had still wanted to get out and _push_.

Seeing Ren standing in her suite had startled Finn badly. But as much as he hated the man, Rey's life was far more important than returning Ren to whatever afterlife he'd come back from.

Finn took another gulp of water. "I think it happened then. She...it was just in time, Poe."

"Hey." Poe reached out and gripped Finn's knee. "Hey, it's okay. She's okay now."

Finn nodded, pulling in a long breath and letting the echo of panic fade. "Yeah." He put his hand over Poe's, and the tight grip of Poe's fingers helped.

After a long moment, Poe bit his lip and let him go, face sober. "So...what you're saying is that if I kill Ren, Rey will die?"

"Basically."

Poe nodded slowly...and then smirked. "Can I maim him a little?" At Finn's eye-roll, Poe sighed theatrically. "Just one limb. Maybe an eye?"

"Take it up with Master Rey and see how far that gets you." Finn finished the water and tossed the bulb at the disposal slot, missing by a parsec.

"Ugh." Poe slumped, and real grief crossed his face. "Why him? Why couldn't it have been Leia?"

That, Finn could not answer. All he could do was tug Poe up and into his arms, and let their sorrow run its course.

* * *

"You said that_ it_ sent you back. The Force?" Rey asked.

It was very early in the morning by ship's time, but the events of the day - and their nap - had thrown Rey completely off schedule. She sat opposite Ben on the long couch, both of them crosslegged so they could see each other, though their hands kept linking across the small space between them.

"Yes." Ben's expression was wondering. "I don't - the memories aren't - "

He broke off, switching back to their wordless communication, letting Rey see for herself. Except she couldn't, really; her impression was of overwhelming _light_, but it was like trying to hear a conversation three rooms away. She shook her head.

Ben let out a breath. "I guess...it's not allowed," he said softly. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "It told me that - things still weren't in balance. That we, you and I, weren't _finished_."

"That's...open-ended," Rey said cautiously.

"Yes, but - here, let me try this." Ben closed his eyes, and Rey's own eyes went unfocused as the concept formed in her mind. It made her draw in a sharp breath.

"_That's_ what the Force wants?" she asked.

"Apparently." Ben opened his eyes again. "The Sith are gone, thanks to you - "

"Thanks to _both_ of us," Rey interrupted, and he squeezed her fingers, the corner of his mouth turning up.

" - It leaves things unbalanced. If the Jedi Order continues, something will rise to counter it."

It sounded crazy on the surface, but Rey could sense the certainty that the Force had embedded in what it had passed to Ben. Whatever origins the Jedi had had - a thousand generations before - they had become a fighting order, opposing the forces of darkness with power. The Sith were gone, but the vacuum would fill.

Unless.

It was audacious, but Rey liked it immediately. An order of _teachers_, reaching out to the Force-sensitive, offering them training to master their gifts - but without demanding that they join any group or espouse any ideology. Training that would emphasize _peaceful_ uses of the Force - healing, helping, nurturing life instead of taking it.

Darkness would still rise, of course, as it always did. But not with such concentrated hatred, or such concentrated power.

_You're the last Jedi,_ Ben said. _You're the last teacher. If you choose to lay the Order down, no one else can pick it up, dark or light. _

"You don't know that," Rey said, almost frightened by the implications. She'd worked so _hard_ to keep it, to maintain the hope of all the Jedi - "Someone could still learn and then turn to the Dark Side._" _

"But they'd be alone. The power of the Sith is gone." His clasp on her fingers was a comfort and his gaze didn't waver from hers. "And if someone's heart is that dark - well, the teacher can refuse."

The words hung between them, and Rey could sense the old pain welling in him. She tightened her grip. "It wasn't you. Not entirely."

Ben bit his lip, then shrugged a little, rueful. "It would have been better for me if Uncle Luke had refused, I think."

Rey shook one hand free to touch his cheek. "Then...then we'll have to do better. Whatever we choose."

He pressed her palm to his face, thumb stroking her wrist. "It's your choice. It _is_ a choice."

Rey's throat tightened. "Will it take you back?" she said, thin and strained. "If I say no?"

_"No."_ In the next instant she was in his arms, held close, and Rey hung on with all her strength, because somewhere inside her was still the little girl who knew beyond doubt that what was good was always taken away. "No, Rey. It's not a bargain."

His head was bent over hers, breath ruffling her hair, and a thread of humor snaked through the shock. "I'm not a _payment._"

Rey exhaled and let him hold her, pressing her forehead to his collarbone. She was still so _hungry_, deep down, not for food but for this, the deep warmth and humming life of a bond no longer half-strangled by distance and mistrust. Ben pressed his cheek against her crown, rocking a little, and she caught a fleeting thought of _not much of a payment if I were; _Rey gave him the lightest of pinches in admonishment, a return whisper of _you're worth it to me_, and felt his shame ease somewhat.

Curled in the circle of his arms, Rey considered the idea, opening her mind wider so that Ben could see. _What about the Jedi of the past? They want the Order to go on._

_Luke doesn't,_ he said immediately, with an assurance she couldn't question. _Leia doesn't._

"But the rest of them," she muttered. "They _saved_ me." All those voices, all that faith, giving her the strength to climb back to her feet, the power to stand against the Emperor. "Without them - "

"Rey...you don't owe them." Ben's voice was firm. "If anything, _they_ owe _you, _for ending the Sith."

His hand slid up to cup her jaw, stroke over her hair. _And they had their lives. This is yours. You deserve to have the life you think best, not one dictated by others. _

"Personal lesson?" Rey asked, pressing her nose briefly to the hollow of his throat, and felt a laugh run through him though he made no sound.

"Learned at great cost." Ben sighed, humor lingering. "At the risk of sounding like an idiot again...maybe it's time to let the past die."

Rey snorted and sat back. Ben's expression mixed amusement and regret, and Rey suddenly felt the urge to tweak his nose. She settled for patting his knee instead. "Maybe it is."

She did _like_ the idea. Teaching students to use their Force powers without having to instill the ideals of a faith she barely understood - it felt so much more _possible_. And besides - if the Force really did want this -

In a sense, it was why their bond existed. And while Rey had to acknowledge, somewhere deep in her that Ben could not see, that things might have been simpler if they had been mere enemies, she would not now give it up even after all the pain.

"Being a Jedi - it's not something I _wanted, _exactly," she said slowly. "It was what was needed."

Ben nodded, reaching out to take her hand again. "You can let the whole thing go, you know. Jedi, Force powers, all of it."

It was tempting, Rey had to admit that. To freely choose her direction and her work untrammeled by debt or war or the needs of immediate survival. But -

But she liked the idea of teaching. She _enjoyed _teaching Finn what she knew, liked nurturing his gift and watching him grow. Teaching others to use their powers in a way that would _improve_ life in the galaxy, not just throw up shields against darkness - to make things better in a way that might keep other small children from abandonment and starvation - that would be something worth doing.

"Do you want this?" she asked Ben. "If that's what the dyad is for, to make this change..."

His mouth quirked. "I think it's what I'm supposed to do. If it makes up, a little, for...for what I've done, then I want it."

Rey considered his words for a moment. "That's fair," she said at last. "Then let's do it."

Ben smiled, and it gave her heart a ridiculous lift. "You'll be an amazing teacher," he said. "You already are, if what I saw Eight-Seven do is any indication."

"Finn," Rey corrected him, frowning a little. "His name is Finn."

"Finn," Ben repeated obediently. "Sorry."

"Did you know he was Force-sensitive?" Rey asked, suddenly curious. Ben shrugged.

"I was aware of it, yeah; a fair number of the conscripts are - about the galactic average, I suppose." He flushed, looking down. "I wasn't going to single him out, though. His, um, personality - it wasn't what Snoke was looking for."

Rey squeezed his hand. "I'm glad you didn't."

Ben glanced up at her without raising his head, and the soft look made her heart beat a little faster. And then he sighed, lowering himself down completely until his head lay in her lap, his legs curled almost to his chest. Rey ran a hand over his hair, and he sighed again; not just contentment, but the sound of someone weary with long journeying home at last.

She couldn't help the smile. Rey rearranged herself so she could sit back, buried her fingers in his hair, and relaxed into peace.

* * *

At this hour, the corridors of the _New Republic_ were mostly empty, and Ben was grateful for it.

He'd called up the map on the holovid before setting out, though really the layout of the ship wasn't that different from others he'd known, years ago; what was odder was the contrast with the path he and Rey had traversed just the day before. The deep hood of the cloak he was wearing did limit Ben's sight, but years of wearing a helmet with no peripheral vision gave him the ability to walk with confidence.

Rey had been astonished when he'd requested the cloak, and some fresh clothes, from the ship's stores, and he still felt the pang of it, the same as the night before when she'd learned she could just _order_ food. _How could she know?_ he reminded himself. _You grew up on ships like these. She grew up in the desert._

But it still stirred a small anger in his gut, that nobody had explained the privileges of her status to her.

Suppressing a shiver, Ben deliberately let the anger go. He didn't _want_ to go back to the man he had been, fueled by rage, and while death had broken him out of that pattern he could see how easy it would be to return to it.

They'd spent a long while talking before falling asleep again; _back end forward,_ Ben couldn't help thinking with amusement, given that they knew each other's hearts better than each other's minds. Rey was a miracle he couldn't get over, a light that no longer burned to the touch, and if she let him orbit her for the rest of his days he would die content.

_She's not your salvation,_ he reminded himself. _You have to do that yourself._

And yet she was; the one person who had truly never given up on him. She'd refused his hand, yes, but because what he'd offered was wrong, not because of _him_.

Rey had seen _Ben_, seen straight through to his battered, imprisoned heart, and...it had been enough, in the end.

Ben let out a nervous breath and flexed his fingers beneath the drape of the cloak. There were enough species and varieties of dress on board the _New Republic_ that a tall shrouded shape was worth no more than a few second glances, but his nerves stemmed from his destination, not the path he took to get there.

_I can come with you,_ Rey had said earlier, brows drawn with concern. _I missed all of my meetings yesterday and no one said a word._

He'd shaken his head and pressed a shy kiss to the crease on her forehead. _I'll be fine. You should go; Jedi or not, those committees need your wisdom._

She'd snorted at that, but agreed, leaving him to change and slip out of the suite.

The landing bay airlock was open when he reached it; the _Falcon_ was one among several ships docked there, and people were coming and going. The ramp was up, but Ben was expecting that - Chewbacca was at his own meeting at the moment. Ben had to shake his head over the image of Chewie on any sort of committee. _I'm surprised he'll have anything to do with one._

But then, it had been a very long time. Perhaps Chewbacca had changed.

The thought made his heart ache.

The code he punched into the keypad shouldn't have worked; it had been _decades,_ and Ben knew the _Falcon_ had changed hands a few times before returning to Han. But either no one had bothered, or it had been changed back, because the ramp descended smoothly.

The puff of ship's atmosphere that rolled out all but set Ben back on his heels. It smelled the _same_, even though that was impossible - metal and recycled air and burnt plastic, and the old hints of Chewie's spicy grooming powder and Han's cologne. It smelled as though he could climb the ramp and find the two of them in the cockpit, and everything as it had been long ago.

In that moment, Ben missed his father so much that it felt as if his chest had been torn open.

_It's your own fault._

There were reasons why it wasn't, entirely, but none of them mattered. He could remember how _close_ he'd been to redemption, how it had taken all his anger and hurt to ignite his saber, to turn his back on the light yet again.

His ears rang, and stepping onto the ramp felt as impossible as breathing vacuum.

Ben's fists clenched at his sides, and his knuckles brushed a foreign hardness in his pocket. Puzzlement lessened the surge of pain somewhat, and when he stuck his hand in cool metal brushed his fingertips. He grasped the object and pulled it out.

Han's good-luck token dangled in his grip, dice swinging on the ends of the short chain. Ben gaped at it; there was absolutely no way it could have ended up in the trousers he'd gotten fresh from the ship's quartermaster less than an hour before, especially since he'd put his hands in _both_ pockets when he'd pulled the trousers on, to smooth the fit. And they'd been _empty_.

_It's okay, kid._

Memory or true whisper - Ben couldn't tell. He pushed back his hood enough to look around, but no one was there.

His panic faded. He cupped the dice in his palm, the oddest sign of forgiveness he'd ever known, and felt the pain dissolve.

When he drew another breath and faced the ramp, it was just a doorway again, old and familiar.

He went on board.

It really was the same. There were little changes here and there, bits of repair or replacement, but the layout Ben knew like he'd known the rooms of his childhood was exactly as it had been. He walked all the way around the circle - the bulkhead doors were open, she was hauling no cargo just then - and then went up to the cockpit.

It felt strange to sit in the pilot's seat; the last time he'd sat there, he'd been almost as tall but not nearly so broad. Ben could see the stars through the viewport and the atmosphere screen of the docking bay; the _New Republic_ was at rest somewhere, so they weren't moving perceptibly.

But he couldn't get comfortable. After all, the _Falcon_ wasn't _his_ ship, and he really had no right to the pilot's seat.

So Ben stood up and returned to the little lounge. It was dim with the lights down, and he stripped off the hooded cloak and settled on the couch behind the hologram board.

The ship felt almost drowsy - waiting patiently for its crew, for its return to that endless expanse. Ben sat in the silence, consciously being still.

It was hard to relax, alone. He'd spent years braced for Snoke's next test or punishment, always on guard; Rey's presence had eased the reflex, but apparently solitude brought it back. He kept waiting for that dark presence to push into his mind, to sift through his thoughts with cruel leisure.

But the _Falcon_ was old familiarity, haven and legacy both at once. Ben tipped his head back and let his eyes unfocus, wondering if anyone had upgraded the head, and if the transceiver still shorted out in heavy atmosphere.

He didn't _think_ he'd fallen asleep, but that damnable fatigue was still dragging at him, and when Ben opened his eyes it was to the face he'd been waiting - and dreading - to see.

Chewbacca was crouched next to the couch, expressionless even to someone who'd grown up learning how to parse the tiny details of Wookiee faces. He had his head cocked to one side, regarding Ben with all the cool patience of a species that outlived civilizations.

Ben lifted his head, opened his mouth...and what came out was the only possible response.

"I'm sorry." The words knotted in his throat, a cramping pain. "I'm so, so sorry - "

His eyes blurred with tears, and any further words were lost to a breath that was more than half a sob. The sound Chewbacca made combined sorrow and relief, and Ben felt himself gathered up in huge arms, pulled close and held as gently as any youngling.

Time blurred for a while as well. The feel of Chewie's fur against his cheek was one of Ben's oldest memories, and one he'd thought he'd managed to forget. Now, as then, it was a comfort, and Ben simply let himself be held as his tears rose and then ebbed.

He kept regressing to childhood, it seemed, dead or alive - but given the mess he'd made of adulthood, it felt strangely fitting to return to that state, even if it was temporary.

Eventually, though, he had to pull back and look up. Chewie's face was kind now, lit with wry pleasure. **_Have you come back to begin again?_**

Ben wiped his eyes and had to laugh a little. "That's as good an explanation as any."

Chewie rumpled Ben's hair with one swipe. **_The truth is what it is._** He regarded Ben more solemnly. **_It is good to see you. It seems your mother was right._**

Ben flinched a little, but the pain was much less than he expected. "She...she forgave me. They both did."

It was an absurd statement on the face of it, but Chewbacca simply nodded. **_Of course they did. One cannot do otherwise for one's children. _**

It was perfectly clear that Chewie didn't just mean Han and Leia, and Ben bowed his head, another few tears slipping out. "I don't deserve it."

**_If you did, you wouldn't need it._** Chewbacca's logic was inescapable. **_Now. Come and eat with me, and explain what's going on._**

Somewhat bemused, Ben did.


End file.
